


One Man's Trash

by sitabethel



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Bakura x Kek, Domestic, M/M, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Trashshipping, and if you want something done..., at this point the name thing is a joke that I can't stop telling, but they don't even kiss until chapter 8. so this is the closest that sitabethel gets to slowburn, cuz it's a better name, dawnshipping, i think, it's what I wanted to read but didn't exist anywhere, kurakek, not that I know wtf slow burn is, tameshipping, the shipper's list is a guide not the bible, there's litterally nothing stopping us from renaming it, this fic is pure. wicked. self indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-05-01 21:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 83,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14529429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitabethel/pseuds/sitabethel
Summary: It's a constant worry for them, that everything happening was only a trick of the Shadow Realm, an offered gift of hope that- when yanked away- would crush them once they lost it. But Bakura and Kek reminded themselves that their new lives were real. The cracks in the ceiling, the chip in the tub enamel, the rumble in their bellies, and that ugly, ugly couch, Illusions didn't bother with imperfections. Like the Velveteen Rabbit, they were Real and alive and... together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If We Were Vampires (By Jason Isbell & 400 Unit)
> 
> "It's not your hands, searching slow in the dark  
> Or your nails leaving love's watermark  
> It's not the way you talk me off the roof  
> Your questions like directions to the truth
> 
> It's knowing that this can't go on forever  
> Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone  
> Maybe we'll get forty years together  
> But one day I'll be gone or one day you'll be gone
> 
> If we were vampires and death was a joke  
> We'd go out on the sidewalk and smoke  
> And laugh at all the lovers and their plans  
> I wouldn't feel the need to hold your hand
> 
> Maybe time running out is a gift  
> I'll work hard 'til the end of my shift  
> And give you every second I can find  
> And hope it isn't me who's left behind
> 
> It's knowing that this can't go on forever  
> Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone  
> Maybe we'll get forty years together  
> But one day I'll be gone or one day you'll be gone"

Dark…

Bakura never minded the dark before, but something about the finality of _this_ darkness set what little was left of his soul on edge. He’d lost. Again. He’d never get vengeance. He’d never know what became of the spirits ( _family_ ) that once haunted Kul Elna. 

And why did he…

The thought was half formed in Bakura’s consciousness. 

Why did he….

He didn’t really want to think about it. There’d been so much he'd never thought about as he stumbled, blind in his need for vengeance, through the last three thousands years of existence. 

Yet something was different now. It was dark, but he felt like his eyes were finally adjusting, allowing himself to see things more clearly than before. 

_It was the game when he'd realized it, that final RPG._

He’d told the Pharaoh that Akhenaden had become Zorc’s Ultimate Shadow Priest and led the spirits into battle against Atem.

Why the HELL would he allow AKHENADEN to go anywhere NEAR his family? Akhenaden was the one that had murdered them. He was the one that had defiled them. He was the one that had forged the Items and offered them to the Pharaoh! 

“Oh no.” Bakura sank to his knees.

He somehow sank deeper into the darkness, a white scrap of paper falling down the shaft of a deep well. And perhaps that’s all Bakura had ever been- a scrap, garbage. 

“Bastard-” Bakura muttered the curse through gritted teeth, but for once it wasn’t directed at the Pharaoh, or even Akhenaden. 

Zorc had played him. Zorc had used him, and Bakura had been so eager- so desperate- to lash out at those who’d hurt him, that he leapt at the opportunity to be a useless little game piece for a dark god. 

But now that it was all over, and Zorc had tossed him aside like a broken toy, Bakura was able to see what role he’d really played. 

_Pawn_. 

_I thought I could control a dark god for my own plans. He’d let me think I was in control the entire time._

_Pawn._

_So stupid… I was so stupid…_

“Fuck!” Bakura screamed into the void.

He clawed at the darkness, trying to keep himself afloat, but there was nothing to cling to. The darkness sifted through his fingers like fine grains of black sand. He sank lower, ever lower. It was a slow, agonizing descent, but it refused to be stopped. Bakura flung back his head to scream louder than before.

“Fuck!” 

Above all else, he hated himself, loathed himself. The Pharaoh was a prick, and Bakura would alway hate him. The entire dynasty had been rotten, allowing war and poverty to almost destroy the land. Even with the Items, people starved and stole from desperation. Atem had the power of 99 sacrifices hanging from his neck, and he used that power to judge the kingdom instead of building it into something better.

But Bakura was worse. He hadn’t been a spoiled child god-king like Atem. He’d grown up hyperaware of the complexity of the world, and he still allowed himself to be manipulated by a demon. He should have known better. _He should have known better_ , and the hatred Bakura felt for himself in that moment was deep and intimate. He’d called himself a Dark Master, but he’d barely been more than an NPC. 

He no longer sifted through the black like sand through an hourglass. No, he was free falling. His hair whipped behind him like a comet tail as he plummeted into the bottomless darkness. 

Then a golden bolt slammed into him. The shock of impact knocked the air from Bakura’s lungs as he crashed to the “ground.” Bakura didn’t even have time to open his eyes before a fist connected with his jaw. Pain jolted up the side of Bakura’s face and down his spine. He growled and lashed out, throwing his own punches in return. 

“Stupid asshole!” A familiar voice cursed. 

Bakura was on his feet now, still swinging. The copper skin, golden hair, and dark purple cloak were more than familiar to him. It felt good, real damn good, to have something external to focus his anger and hatred on again, and what better target than Malik’s alter ego? 

“What’s the matter?” Bakura scoffed and he grabbed the creature’s hair and used his other fist to break the other Malik’s nose. “Thought you loved the darkness?” 

“I said I’d love to tame it.” Malik’s other half cackled as he grabbed Bakura’s throat and squeezed. 

Bakura kicked out, his foot landing into the other Malik’s stomach and making him stumble backwards a step. 

“Sorry to disappoint.” Bakura coughed, holding his bruised throat. “But I’ve had a bit of a falling out with the darkness since we last fought. You could say we’ve broken up.” 

“How heartbreaking!” The other Malik lunged forward. He tackled Bakura back to the shadowed ground and straddled him as he pushed his thumbs into Bakura’s eyes. “Then let’s make this a blind date!” 

Bakura shifted and managed to knee the other Malik in the groin before he could gauge Bakura’s eyes out of his skull. They wrestled, something Bakura forgotten he could do, but he’d been the youngest of many cousins back in Egypt and even as a small child had learned to slip from larger, stronger opponents and hold his own in a brawl. He felt a sting on his cheek and a tingling warmth from a scratch he’d received and his throat still hurt, but Bakura was giving as good as he got. 

Maybe the creature that shared Malik’s rich, copper complexion didn’t show the bruises as starkly as Bakura’s skin- which had stayed milk-pale like Ryou’s even after his spirit had left the Ring- but the bright streaks of red from the scratches and cuts were beautiful beacons in the monotonous dark. 

The other Malik bit into Bakura’s collar bone. It was a strange, shocking feeling, more exciting than painful. Bakura slapped Malik’s doppelganger. 

“None of that!” 

The other Malik only spat and dove for Bakura again, jaw wide and teeth bared. Bakura headbutted him and they ended up back on the ground in a chaotic heap of limbs and hair. Bakura’s arms felt like marble, heavy and stiff. He noticed his opponent's blows weren’t as crushing as they’d been at the beginning of the fight. This battle was going to be a matter of who collapsed first, and Bakura refused to be killed by Malik’s mental disorder- although it somehow figured Malik would somehow be the death of him. 

However, after fifteen more minutes of kicks, scratches, and hair tugging, Malik’s other half collapsed onto Bakura’s chest. They both lay on top of each other. Their chests swelled and collapsed with harsh, ragged breaths. 

“That … all… you got?” Bakura wheezed shallow breaths between words, but that didn’t stop him from being facetious. 

Malik’s other half tried to claw at Bakura’s chest, but all he managed was to clasp onto Bakura’s shirt.

“Fuck,” he cursed in a breathless growl. “Soon as I can move again- you’re dead.”

“Not if I recover first.” Bakura smirked. 

Bakura should have told Malik’s double to get the fuck off of his chest, but the creature radiated heat from their fight and the Shadows were so damn cold. His eyes fluttered shut wholly against his internal commands to stay awake and murder the other Malik the second he could.

He dreamt of the day he died.

And hated himself for his own ignorance. 

***

Bakura awoke with a gasp. At first he thought he was back in the Ring because of the darkness, but then he remembered losing against the Pharaoh and his soul being sent to the Shadow Realm instead. A warm, comforting weight rested on Bakura’s chest. Bakura looked down at himself and realized Malik’s other half was passed out on top of him. Bakura jerked at in reflexive shock, but then remembered their fight. The memory didn’t help remedy the eerie calm of the moment. It was like the Shadows had slid away from them and they floated on their own. 

Bakura didn’t understand how he could feel so peaceful crushed under the weight of his enemy in a realm of darkness, terror, and suffering. Perhaps it was how Malik-like the alter ego’s face looked when he was sleeping. He still wore the kohl markings that represented the tomb-guards as far back as Priest Mahad’s time, and the gold jewelry that Malik had worn during Battle City. His cape draped over them like a blanket and that added to the surreal feeling of contentment.

Bakura chuckled. Existence was absurd and he was a little sick of it. For an instant Bakura thought of allowing this child of darkness to simply strangle him until oblivion released him from the continuation of his suffering. However, be it a curse or blessing, Bakura was too proud and willful to give up, even after three thousand years of torment. 

Still… the creature’s face in rest was so similar to Malik’s. Not that Bakura had ever had a chance to see Malik relaxed. Malik’s face had always been gilded with cruelty and purpose. That’s what drew Bakura to him so strongly. Bakura realized that he would have liked to have seen a similar calm expression on Malik’s face. He reached out, combing the golden knives of hair. 

Malik’s alter ego gasped as the gentle touch. His eyes shot open as he woke, and he looked at Bakura. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

“I’m surprised that your hair is soft. I half expected to cut my fingers on it.”

“By _why_ did you touch it?” 

“Despair.” Bakura’s gaze lulled upward, but all he saw was dark. 

He knew they were going to fight again. It was inevitable, but he was content to lay there and stay motionless until Malik’s other half started something. The alter ego laughed. Bakura felt the shaking of it against his ribs. 

“Despair? You? Don’t tell me you’re giving up so soon. I’m looking forward to spending the next thousand years ripping you to confetti.” He dragged himself higher against Bakura’s body so he could grip his hair and bring their faces close together. “Don’t give up yet, thief. It won’t be any fun if you stop fighting back.” 

“You’re like what? Six? Give existing another three thousand years and then maybe you’ll understand just how tired I am.” Bakura grinned. He may as well have been a grinning skull as far as the expression felt on his face- stripped, joyless, nothing but a jaw bone grinding against its hinges. 

“I’m not six,” Malik’s other half argued. “I was Malik until we split, and then I was still Malik. The _real_ Malik. I’m all the things Malik really wanted.” 

“You were a puppet.” Bakura snorted. “Malik’s pain and anger were your strings- jerking you around and making you dance- and now you’re _nothing_.” Bakura shut his eyes, his lids too heavy to support himself. “We’re both nothing. The Pharaoh won, he always won, and now he’s a god and we’re garbage tossed into a black, empty landfill.” 

He felt the sting of a hard slap, and heard the sound of flesh-smacking-flesh ringing out into the shadows even as his cheeks burned from the friction. 

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” Bakura’s smile widened. 

“You’re one to talk!” The alter ego screamed into Bakura’s face. “You were a puppet of the Ring!” 

“You’re right,” Bakura admitted. 

“Fuck you! Don’t agree with me.”

A dry laugh rattled in Bakura’s lungs. “Maybe you are Malik. You argue as much as he did.” 

“I’m not a puppet anymore.” The other Malik released Bakura’s hair, letting Bakura’s head drop to the ground. “Ever since I’ve been here, I’ve… changed. Being on my own, out of Malik’s head… it’s made me different. Now I’m _me_.”

“I know what you mean, being out of the Ring is making me remember what it was like to be alive.”

“I was never really alive.” The other Malik couldn’t keep the rueful tone out of his voice. 

The sound of his voice, the sadness of it, had a strange effect on Bakura. He remembered that exact tone coming from Malik’s voice. 

_Okay, I fucked up. Is that what you wanted to hear? Will you help me now?_

It had been exactly what Bakura wanted to hear. Malik had put him through a maze of tasks, and then jeopardized his host during Bakura’s duel against the Pharaoh. Malik hadn’t known, hadn’t truly known, the difference between Yugi and Atem. Yugi would never hurt his friend; Atem would never suffer to lose a game. That was why Bakura had taken the blast from Slifer himself. 

Not that passing out from injury was enough to keep Malik away. He’d been back, desperate and (dare Bakura say afraid?) of his alter ego, and Bakura couldn’t help but help Malik. Although it had made no sense for him to do so.

“If I’d had any common sense, I would have joined forces with you. You wanted to sacrifice everything to the darkness. I was the embodiment of darkness. We could have really fucked shit up together.” 

“Malik had you wrapped around his little finger.” The alter ego snorted. 

“No, it wasn’t like that.”

“No?”

“No.” Bakura grinned. It was sincere- and that frightened Bakura- but he was trapped in the darkness forever, so what did it matter if memories of Malik made him smile? “I… I don’t know. I understood him.”

“I understood him more,” the alter ego snapped. “More than he understood himself.” 

“Yeah, probably.” Bakura shrugged. 

“It’s better I’m here,” he muttered. “Malik’s better off without me.”

“He’s better off without either of us. Fuck, my host, too. I told you, we’re trash. Discarded cards sent to the graveyard.” 

“At least you protected your host. I was suppose to protect Malik, but everything, I don’t know, it changed somehow. I went from wanting to protect him to wanting to destroy him and I’m not even sure when the change happened.”

“It was the Rod. The Items feed off of negativity. They look like gold, right? Beautiful. But no, they’re made from these Shadows mixed with blood and suffering and agony.”

“You filthy whore, grab my balls if you’re going to dirty talk like that.”

Bakura laughed. He did not want to find Malik’s other half funny, or understand him. Bad enough he understood Malik, felt a strange attraction towards the tombkeeper. The last thing he needed was that nonsense getting muddled in his brain and mixed up with the creature still resting on Bakura’s chest.

Bakura knew he should reach out and sink his nails into the other Malik’s cheek, claw the flesh from his face and renew their fight until only one of them stood. He even reached out his hand to do it, but the Other Malik flicked his lilac gaze back up to Bakura, and Bakura’s fingers caressed the side of the other Malik’s cheek instead of tearing into his flesh. 

“Stop.”

Bakura dropped his hand. The other Malik’s face twisted in rage. Wrinkles creased his forehead and the corners of his eyes. He squeezed his lids shut as he nails dug into Bakura’s shirt. 

“Don’t really stop!” 

“If you say stop of course I’m going to stop.”

“Since when did you treat bodies like anything other than vessels?”

“Fuck you, since I left the Ring. I told you, I’m remembering what I was like as a human, and maybe I was a bad human, too, but I wouldn’t keep touching someone had they ever said to stop.” 

“It’s _confusing_ ,” the other Malik said the words like a death threat somehow, hateful and violent. “No one’s ever… they hugged Malik, but no one ever touched _me_.” 

“I figured. No one ever touched me either. Not since my family died.” 

“Do you want me to?” The other Malik’s face was a grotesque twist of emotion, but he gave Bakura a hopeful look. 

“I don’t care.” Bakura snorted and looked away.

His face jerked back when he felt coarse fingers slide down his own cheek. He marveled at the texture and took the other Malik’s hand so he could examine it. Malik never did his own work and his hands had been soft as cashmere, but his alter ego’s hands were work-calloused. Also, while Malik’s nails were pristine and manicured, his other half’s were bitten bloody. Bakura had to remind himself that, in the Shadow Realm, they technically didn’t have physical bodies. This was a manifestation of how Malik’s alter saw himself, doing all the dirty work- thus the calloused hands- and he probably bit his own nails from nerves. Bakura had when he was alive.

Before he knew what he was doing, Bakura was resting the other Malik’s hand to his cheek again. 

“This is weird,” Malik’s other half whispered, but a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

 

“I know.” Bakura thought about pulling back, but the thought drove him insane. Instead, he clutched at the other Malik’s back in a desperate embrace. “Fuck it. Godsdammit and fuck them all. We’re here forever, so why not?” 

“Yeah, fuck it.” The other Malik’s breath hitched at Bakura’s violent hold. He buried his face in the crook of Bakura’s neck. 

Bakura got the strange notion in his head that he wouldn’t mind spending a few thousand years just like they were. Seriously, fuck it. Why shouldn’t they? All the cards had ran out from their hand. They’d lost. They were alone, and Bakura was fucking sick of being alone. It hadn’t bothered him in the Ring, but the regurgitated remains of his humanity had surfaced now that he was free, and he needed to be fucking held so fucking badly that he felt like he was dying from want of it.

So he slammed his eyes shut, and squeezed at the other Malik’s body, and made a mental note at how nice it was to feel the other Malik’s hair tickle his cheek. He was okay. This was going to be okay. They could stay like this forever, and the darkness wouldn’t bother them and they couldn’t bother anyone else. It was fine. Hell, it was better than their entire existence before that moment. 

The crack of thunder and rain exploded in Bakura’s ears even as he felt the freezing drops bombarding his skin. He and Malik’s other half jumped at the same instant and scrambled to their feet. The rain soaked through their hair, weight it down, and the cold water chilled their skin. There were bricks to either side of them and the smearing afterglow of street lights to the north. Bakura squinted against the rain and looked at the sky in time to see a scar of yellow carve into the clouds above.

“Are we… alive?” The other Malik clutched to Bakura’s arm. 

Bakura looked down at his hands and noticed that the left was ruined with scar tissue that tore from front to back. He mentally called out for Ryou, expecting to hear the small voice asking how Bakura had returned, but he was alone, alone in a body that looked like Ryou’s, and he didn’t understand _why or how_. 

“This can’t … how did this happen?” 

Malik’s other half shook his head. He looked even more like his other half with the rain soaking his hair down. His teeth chattered, and the hand on Bakura’s arm shook. Bakura realized they needed to get out of the freezing rain. He grabbed the other Malik’s hand and pulled him down the alley.

“Follow my lead.”

“What are you doing?” 

“Finding a store with some Duel Monster cards.”

“The last thing I want to do is play a card game!” The other Malik pulled out of Bakura’s hold.

“Do you want a dry bed?” Bakura pivoted, clenched the other Malik’s arm again, and pulled him forward. “Because for that we need money. If I steal some cards I can hustle a few games for enough cash to get us through the night.” 

“I have a better idea. Let’s stop by the ATM. I remember Malik’s pin.”

Bakura thought about it, and while it’d be much quicker, he didn’t like the idea. He bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head.

“He’ll investigate. What he he figures out it was you? Do you really want him to know that you’re back? He has his family now. He doesn’t need either of us to protect him anymore.” 

“You’re right.” Malik’s double nodded. “He really is better off without us. Fine. Let’s leave him alone and steal some cards.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Their hair and clothes dripped onto the store's linoleum floor. Bakura held his arms and tried not to visibly shiver. He wished he’d been brought back with Ryou's long black coat and a few thousand yen, but he guessed he'd have to be thankful for simply being alive.

The fluorescent bulbs above glared down on them, a pathetic mockery of Ra. Bakura gave them a wayward glance, snorted, and then started to scan the departments. 

Only a single cashier guarded the door, and their face stayed buried in a magazine, which was good because Bakura and his new partner looked like they were about to rob the place. Bakura grit his teeth. He hated how sloppy their theft was going to be- nothing worthy of the thief king he used to be- but necessity demanded a sacrifice of pride.

Bakura cut through H&B, lifting a few bobby pins from a pack, and then leaned closer to Malik's other half.

“Pretend to look at cards. I'm going to open up the case where they keep the Duel Disks. When you see me run- follow.”

The other Malik only nodded. His expression was a mask, and Bakura was glad that he had enough common sense to keep quiet. 

They found electronics and meandered to where the video games were, pretending to shop. Malik's alter ego stayed at the trading card section and first picked up a deck of Magic cards before making his way down the aisle of the larger section reserved for Duel Monsters merchandise.

Next to the video games stood a case for Duel Disks. Bakura scanned them. He saw a few of the older ones he was familiar with, but apparently Kaiba Corp had developed a sleeker, newer model. Bakura figured if one was going to steal, then they'd get into just as much trouble stealing the expensive model as they would the cheap one, so he went straight for the new models.

The lock on the case was pathetic. Bakura had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from sneering. He held his breath as he slid open the case and pulled two Disks out. Bakura already noticed the fire exit close to the back and, since they'd trigger an alarm going through either door, decided to break for the closer one.

Malik's other half grabbed a handful of the card boxes and followed. They dashed away from the store and into another rain-soaked alleyway. Their feet kicked up a spray of droplets as they splashed through puddles, but they didn't stop running until the cold air felt like needles in their lungs. 

Bakura finally leaned against a brick wall near a trash dumpster, gasping in sharp breaths.

“How did you ever think this was fun?” Malik's alter panted beside him.

“It was more fun when I was robbing pharaohs. There was wine.” 

Malik's other half grinned, and in the storm and dark the expression looked more ghastly than usual. “So, did you ever piss on the corpse of a pharaoh?”

Bakura snickered. The memories were still hazy, but the longer he existed without the Ring, the clearer they became.

“Right on his divine face.” 

They both chuckled, but it ended with sighs. They were freezing, shivering, soaked, Bakura's stomach felt cramped, and they still had miles to go before they slept.

“So what do we do now?” The other Malik asked.

“Let's find a place out of the rain to gather our cards. Then we'll search for a few suckers to duel.” 

“In the rain?” 

“There's always a game going on in Domino City. At the very least one of Kaiba Corp’s Duelist Cafés.” 

“That's a thing?” The other Malik gave Bakura a suspicious look.

“They're all over Japan.” Bakura's shrugged. “I told you, people like their damn card games here.”

They walked away from the alleys and into the streets. In the dark and rain, only a minimal amount of other people were out, wrapped up in jackets and hunched beneath umbrellas. A few taxis and automobiles milled about, but the city was, for the most part, asleep.

They found a park with a gazebo, and ran to stand beneath it. Bakura set the Duel Disks on a bench so he could wring out the water from his shirt and hair. He started to snicker.

“What's so funny?”

“It’s a gazebo.”

“Yeah? And?” 

“Maybe we should set it on fire before it awakens.” 

“The fuck?”

“So, I uh, take it that Malik never played tabletop RPG’s.” Bakura scratched the back of his soaked head. 

“Of course not, who would waste time on games in the middle of a revenge quest?”

“Look, I can multi-task.” Bakura grabbed the closest of the two Duel Disks and tried to figure out how he’d manage to open the packaging without a knife. “Like right now. We should probably give you some sort of name while we figure out how to open these.”

“Why do I need a name?” Malik’s darker half grabbed the other Duel Disk and tore at the hard plastic with his teeth. 

“I’m tired of thinking of you as Not-Malik.”

“That’s not my problem.” Not-Malik spat out a chuck of plastic and went in for another bite. 

“Would it hurt to call you something other than darkness?” 

“Darkness is a perfectly good name.” He winced as the plastic cut into his gums. 

The pain made him growl and he ripped the package open in a violent fit. Bakura grabbed the disk from the wreckage and watched as the other Malik stomped the packaging into the concrete while snarling at it. When Malik’s other half wore himself out, he gave the trash a final kick and then turned to Bakura, panting and daring Bakura to challenge the behavior. 

“Then I’ll call you Kek.” Bakura handed the second package to Kek so he could open it as well. “He was-”

“I know about the gods.” Kek grabbed the Duel Disk and tore into it with more fervor than the first one. 

Bakura shrugged, but didn’t say anything as Kek rampaged against the casing. When the entire fit was over they had two brand new Duel Disks, two mangled pieces of protective plastic laying in the grass next to the gazebo and glistening in rain and street light, and a name in which to call Malik’s former alter ego. 

“Excessive, but at least you got the job done.” Bakura reached out and wiped blood away from Kek’s mouth. “Maybe next time you’ll manage not to tear yourself up in the process.” 

“You’re no better. Your deck was structured around sacrifice.” Kek snorted, licking blood off his gums. “Apt, I suppose, since you were sacrificing yourself to me in order to help my main personality.” 

“Speaking of cards, we should see what sort of pathetic decks we’ll be able to fashion with the cards we stole.” 

Kek arranged the packs out on the table and they started to open and shuffle through them. There were a few surprises, but for the most part, they were left with generic cards. Bakura clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Pathetic.”

“I can make do with this. It’s the skill of the player as well as the deck.” Kek huffed a bitter snort. “And dumb luck.” 

“Especially dumb luck.” Bakura popped his deck into the Duel Disk. “Never had much luck.” 

“You don’t have much skill either.” Kek smirked.

“I’d love to retort, but I’m beyond exhausted right now.” Bakura scratched the side of his cheek. “Not to mention cold, soaked, and I think the strange cramping in my stomach might be hunger.”

“You think? You don’t know?” Kek frowned. 

“It’s been 3,000 years. I’m a little out of practice with being human. Why? Are you hungry?” Bakura asked. 

“I … don’t know either.” Kek picked at the Kaiba Corp logo on his Duel Disk. “Malik went through a lot, but that bastard Rishid always made sure he ate, so…” 

“Do you have a weird … twisty, clawing feeling in your stomach?” Bakura asked.

Kek nodded.

“Well, we’re probably hungry. Either that or these bodies are already dying somehow. Wouldn’t _that_ be our luck?” Bakura tried to laugh, but it was joyless. “Fuck, okay, let’s go find a Duelist Cafe and see if we can bet someone a few sandwiches that we can kick their ass in a card game.” 

They only had to walk a block through the rain until they found a place to Duel. The building’s interior was garish, plastered with promotion posters of upcoming card releases and tournament information. Both the KC and DM logos peaked from every item on the shelves, from the shirts, to the water bottles, and even the Dark Magician and BEWD plushies. 

“They’re little idols.” Kek eyed the dolls. “Those people are like gods now.” 

Bakura blinked. It was an odd statement and an odd sentiment, but he found himself liking it. Bakura himself may have stolen gold from kings, but the royal court had stolen souls (including the souls of Kul Elna). And wasn’t that the problem? It was never the souls of invaders or war generals, but the souls of the people of Egypt. Stealing bread was all it took to have one’s ka taken and then be sentenced to hard labor. Bakura didn’t see how that was any better than the beheadings or impalings that happened before the Items existed. Either punishment ruined a person’s chances for a happy afterlife, so the idea that their spirits may have survived- because people played the game, and kept figurines of their favorites, and remembered the names of each soul through Duel Monsters- pleased Bakura.

Except Mahad’s ka. Fuck that guy. Bakura wanted to set the Dark Magician dolls on fire. Bakura clutched at his chest, wondering if any of Diabound revived when he had returned in his own body. He wanted to summon him, see if he _could_ , but it was neither the time nor place for such an experiment. 

They wandered away from the shopping area and towards the main room where Duelists paired off in the areas set up for the Duel Disks, or played each other in the corners and sides of the room while they waited for an arena to open up. Dubstep blasted from the speakers, making Bakura’s intestines throb. He hated this place already, but it was a necessary evil. Bakura scanned the room, found his mark, and walked towards them, leaving Kek to find his own game. He batted his eyes at his soon-to-be victim, impersonating Ryou’s body language and tone.

“Wow! This place is huge! I never imagined it’d be so great.”

“Get out of here. No one has time to teach a noob.” The mark folded his arms over his chest. 

“Oh, but I’ve been practicing online and I’ve gotten really good!” Bakura forced himself not to grit his teeth as he smiled. “So good, in fact, that I’d bet you 2,500 yen that I could beat you on my first try!” Bakura giggled, flashing his new Duel Disk. “See? My mom even bought this for me so I could play.” 

The mark eyed Bakura’s Duel Disk like a hungry dog staring at a meaty bone. One of the reason’s Bakura picked this particular mark was because of his older model disk. 

“How ‘bout if I win, you give that shiny new Duel Disk to a duelist who can handle it.”

“I don’t know… this is worth a lot more than 2,500 yen…” Bakura ran his fingers across the surface of the disk.

“We’ll double it, then. 5,000 yen if you win- Duel Disk for me if I win.”

“Well…” Bakura shuffled as if considering. 

“Otherwise you can scram. I don’t have time to play with a noob.” 

“Oh, alright.” Bakura pouted. “Deal.” 

Half an hour later, Bakura’s Ryou act was long gone and his own, vicious smile sat victoriously on Bakura’s lips as his opponent’s LP dropped to zero. 

“There’s no way!” The mark screamed. 

“Beginner’s luck, I suppose.” Bakura licked his lips. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to hand over the money.”

“Fuck you! I’m not paying you!” 

“I wouldn’t go back on our agreement if I were you.” Bakura’s voice was dark, menacing, and perfect- except for the fact that he’d forgotten he no longer had the Ring and, therefore, couldn’t dole out penalty games when people annoyed him. Fuck. 

“What are you going to do? Cry to your mom?” The duelist pulled out a small knife. “Now, give me that Duel Disk.” 

“It’s not very nice to steal from someone at knifepoint.” Bakura clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He saw the shadow creeping behind his opponent, but kept his gaze locked on the duelist in front of him. 

“Too fucking bad for you I’m not a very nice guy. Now are you going to hand it over or am I going to have to slice it off you- hey!” 

He screamed in pain as a copper-colored hand squeezed his wrist. The knife fell to the floor, unnoticed in the busy cafe. Bakura walked up to the punk, stooping down to claim the knife and pocketing it before staring his opponent in the face. 

“Are you going to hand over the money, or is my friend here going to have to break your wrist?”

“This isn’t fair!”

“Too fucking bad for you that life isn’t fair,” Bakura purred. “Now, the money.” 

With a pathetic sniffle, the mark reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his wallet. Bakura grabbed it and counted up all the paper yen, snorting.

“Only 4,000 yen, but I suppose it’ll do.” Bakura tossed the wallet at the mark’s feet and crammed the bills into his pocket. “Let’s go.”

Kek released the duelist and followed Bakura to the cafe counter. If anyone saw what they’d done- they didn’t care enough to stop their own games, and the staff all seemed preoccupied watching their matches in the arenas. Bakura ordered shrimp and vegetable tempura with onigiri. He also ordered two slices of chocolate cake. Bakura wasn’t sure what he wanted, so he just grabbed things he remembered Ryou eating with his stupid friends, and then carried the baskets to a the furthest table from the crowds. 

“This is all fried.” Kek wrinkled his nose at the shrimp and vegetables.

“So what?”

“Malik never ate food like this.”

“But does Kek like fried food?”

“I… don’t know.” With a shrug, Kek conceded and bit into a piece of sweet potato tempura. 

“Well?” 

“Oh fuck yes Kek does.” He shoved the rest of the sweet potato into his mouth, and then tried a fried mushroom, and then a zucchini. “This is so damn good.” 

Bakura grunted, agreeing. His was too busy eating to comment, however. The food tasted better now that it was his mouth, and his tongue, and his palate enjoying the food instead of a host’s. The strange feeling in his stomach calmed down about halfway through the meal, confirming Bakura’s suspicion that they’d been hungry. They were still damp, but at least now they were in a warm room and fed. 

When Kek made it to the chocolate cake, he squealed in delight. Bakura blinked, shocked at the reaction. He studied Kek as he licked chocolate frosting off of his plastic fork tines with his serpentine tongue. Kek hummed while he ate and leaned side to side in a little dance, and Bakura found the behavior fascinating to watch. He couldn’t imagine Malik indulging in cake, let alone doing so joyously. Bakura rested his chin in his hand as he continued to watch Kek discover chocolate for the first time. Kek looked up, his eyes going a little wide when he noticed Bakura watching him.

“Is- is this not human?”

“What?” Bakura asked.

“You’re looking at me funny. Is this not how humans eat?”

“Fuck if I know what humans do. Haven’t been one in thousands of years. No, it was just…” Bakura looked away. He didn’t want to say _cute_. “You’re nothing like Malik. It’s interesting.” 

“You mean bad?”

“No.” Bakura turned his head to look at Kek again. Then he smirked and added, “I have no problem with you now that we’re not dueling each other. By the way-” Bakura frowned. “Where did your Duel Disk go?”

“Oh.” Kek looked at his arm where the disk should have been. “I sold it.”

“Why?”

“Someone offered a decent price. I didn’t want to play.”

“Then why did I bother stealing it?” Bakura rolled his eyes. 

“So I could sell it.” Kek punctuated his statement with the last bite of cake. “I got enough for us to buy some clothes and toiletries, and probably a few nights at a hostel on top of it.” 

“I suppose that is one of our more economic options.” Bakura winced at the thought of sleeping in an open room with other travelers in a hostel. 

“You’re a snob just like Malik.” Kek laughed. 

“I don’t remember everything from my old life, but I remember that sharing space with other humans can be dangerous.”

“Not as dangerous as me.” Kek winked. 

“No argument there.” Bakura couldn’t help the small chuckle escaping from his mouth. 

He didn’t mind having a murderous bodyguard. Not that he wasn’t capable of murdering on his own. More than one man's blood stained Bakura’s hands, but the fear that someone might have felt around Kek was only comfort to Bakura. Kek was dangerous, and that made him a valuable ally. 

“Here, I’m done.” He slid the last few bites of his cake over to Kek. 

It was a lie. Bakura wouldn’t have minded eating the rest, but he felt … compelled to share it with Kek for some reason. He wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe to watch the smile that lit up Kek’s face when he stabbed the cake with his fork. 

“So, long term, what are we going to do? Are we going to join the Yakuza? Or start our own gang? Or … I mean, what else can we do?” 

“I don’t know.” Bakura rubbed his face. “Stealing doesn’t really bother me, but crime rings get into some fucked up shit. Drugs, sex slaves, child trafficking. Could you stand by and guard some piece of shit criminal while he sells a little boy to some rich, perverted CEO from the States?”

“Fuck no,” Kek snarled. “Those are the people I _kill_. Assholes that hurt kids- like that son-of-a-bitch father of Malik's.”

“My point exactly.” Bakura held out his hands to calm Kek down before he started raving. “Even I have my standards. We’ll have to think of something else.”

“Then what do we do? We can’t hustle card games forever. If a tournament comes up you can make good money, but …” Kek shook his head. “I don’t want to play.” 

“Look, let’s sleep on it.” Bakura shook his head. “There are ten million thoughts going through my head right now, and I can’t deal with any of them.” Bakura massaged his temples, sighing. “Maybe in the morning things will be easier to sort out.”

“Yeah…” Kek nodded. He looked as exhausted as Bakura felt. “Yeah.” 


	3. Chapter 3

They found another store and bought clean underwear and a few travel-sized toiletries. By the time they finished, a gray, meager sunrise had decided to fight its way through the clouds. The light that managed to break free made the wet streets look like rivers of dark lava. They found a thrift shop and waited for it to open, buying a change of clothes each for much cheaper than new clothes. Kek also found a old leather backpack they could carry everything in. 

They walked for quite a bit before they found a hostel that looked decent. The woman running it offered them showers right away and even put their wet clothes in the wash for them. After washing up and changing clothes, he found the landlady serving Kek and two others breakfast at a large, round table. The other two looked like a couple. They kept stealing smiles at each other and blushing. The girl didn’t look local at all, but her boyfriend had dark hair and eyes that contrasted with his fair complexion. 

“Eat something. It’s really good.” Kek pulled a chair for Bakura to sit next to him.

Bakura realized he was hungry again. He supposed it made sense, but it was a strange feeling for him after so much time as a spirit. He sat down and allowed the landlady to fuss over him. She spooned instant coffee into a mug and poured hot water from a kettle on top, handing the cup and spoon to Bakura to stir on his own. She had crows feet near her eyes and streaks of silver in her black hair, but she moved in quick, energetic bursts. Bakura thought that she would have made a excellent thief despite her age. 

“Stop complimenting my cooking so much, or I’ll never let you leave.” She spoke to Kek as she put eggs and rice, tofu and fish, umeboshi and daikon all on a plate and set it in front of Bakura. “I heard how you were mugged, you poor dears! Lost all your paperwork and can’t get home to Egypt. Don’t worry. You can work here for room and board. Four hours a day will cover beds and meals. Do you have family? You could make a collect call from my phone.”

“No family.” Bakura shook his head, sipping on his coffee. “At least, not living.” 

“My family hates me.” Kek scratched his head with a sheepish grin on his face.

“What? How could they! You’re a piece of honeycomb!” 

“He was a delinquent when he was sixteen.” Bakura winked at Kek. 

“Hmmm…” she pursed her lips, eyes shifting from Bakura to Kek. “I think I might understand. You two are travelling together, right?”

Kek nodded, but by the look in his eyes Bakura could tell that he didn’t understand what the woman was implying. No matter, if she thought they were runaway boyfriends escaping Egypt and helped them out because of pity, then Bakura was more than willing to play along to.

“It’s sad, really.” Bakura heaved a dramatic sigh. “He has two brothers and a sister back at home, but they simply don’t accept him. They kicked him out, so we left and ended up here, and now we've lost all our identification.”

Kek opened his mouth, but Bakura kicked his calf beneath the table. Kek scowled, but fortunately the home keeper didn’t notice. 

“That’s terrible! Your own family treating you like that.” She tsk-tsked as she started to wash the pots and pans from breakfast. 

“My aunt lives a town over from here,” the guy across the table spoke up. “She owns a restaurant. It’s small. I don’t think it’d pay much, but she did say she needed help.”

Bakura’s mouth dropped. This stranger was offering to help Bakura get a job? He’d never known strangers to be anything short of a danger to him. And the job? At a restaurant? What the hell would Bakura do? Wash dishes? The motherfucking King of Thieves washing soy sauce off of plates? It was fucking insane.

“Th-thanks,” Bakura muttered, defaulting into Ryou-like politeness out of sheer shock.

He wasn’t really _considering_ … was he? He supposed he was. Thieving was riskier in a world of cameras and fingerprint dust. Not to mention that part of him, deep down, wondered how his life would have been like, had he gotten a chance to live like a normal person. This might be his only chance to try it.

Besides, he could always go back to stealing later if he didn't like common-cloth life.

“Should I call? Or maybe you could give me the address?” Bakura fished for directions. He really didn't know how to go about asking for honest work.

“We were going to visit her tomorrow,” the girl said.

“Yeah, come with us,” her boyfriend agreed. “We can introduce you in person.” 

“Thanks.” Bakura gave a slight bow of his head. He really was acting far too much like Ryou, and hoped that none of his old host's mannerisms had accidentally filtered over to Bakura from sharing the Ring for too long.

They finished breakfast and Bakura washed the plates and cups as Kek rinsed and dried them. It was the start of their four hours to pay for their room and board. Afterward, the landlady led them to the attic. A small window sent a shaft of light across the floor. Dust motes spun in lazy circles. Kek reached out his hands, trying to catch them.

“Toss out anything that's broken. Sweep, mop, dust, if you see any clothes that fit, take them. Some of this stuff was left by tenants years ago. If they haven't claimed it by now- they won't ever. Don't worry if you're not done after four hours. This place is a trash heap. Come get lunch when you're done.”

“Can we work six hours?” Kek asked. “That way Bakura's rent for tomorrow will already be covered while he looks for a job.” 

“I don't see why not, but get lunch after four.” She left down the narrow staircase, leaving them alone.

“I can pay my own rent,” Bakura grumbled. “I always do.” 

“It's just cleaning.” Kek shrugged. “I don't know, is it weird that this is sorta fun? Malik never cleaned a damn thing in his life. He always let Rishid wait on him. This is… mine. My life, and my experiences, and… it's nice.” 

Bakura felt a wild urge to touch Kek's hair at that moment. The light lit it up. The dust swirled around him like magic. His face was so soft with wonder that Bakura couldn't imagine the expression belonging to Malik or his alter ego. Kek was his own, and his strange, almost candid view of the world was having the worst sort of effect on Bakura. The kind that made him look forward to the next six hours of dusting and mopping.

“I mean, look at this stuff.” Kek ran his fingers down a wrought iron birdcage. His touch smeared little trails into the dust coating the black scroll work. “She called it a trash heap, but there's all kinds of neat stuff up here.”

“Well, we’d better clean it.” Bakura wrapped his hair up in a bandana the landlady had provided and started dusting furniture with a cloth. 

Kek also put up his hair, but the bandana didn't do much to tame his spikes. He found a broken chair and stacked it near the entrance so he could carry it to the dumpster later.

“Huh.” Bakura shook a oak table with a wobbly leg. “I bet I could fix this with a screwdriver and some WD-40. Ryou was good at that sort of thing, and I remember some of what he used to do to fix things.”

“Here's a tool box.” Kek brought over a metal case that was more rust than green paint.

They opened it up and saw several screwdrivers and wrenches. There was no WD40, but Bakura managed to get the rusted screw out without it. When they finished fixing it, they dusted and waxed the table, and it was quite handsome to look at.

“Let's put things we fixed off to the side in case the landlady wants to use them again,” Kek suggested.

Bakura nodded and together they moved the table to a spot beneath the window. The next thing Bakura grabbed was an old cardboard box. The dust lay so thick on it that it fell off in matted clumps as Bakura swiped it with his rag. Bakura unfolded the top to see what was inside.

“Holy shit.”

“What's wrong?” Kek popped up his head from a pile of moth-eaten sheets he was carrying over to dump with the broken chair.

“It's an entire box of American comic books. Holy shit, they're even wrapped in plastic.” Bakura flipped through one. “They're in great shape. She should sell these- after I read them.” Bakura stocked the box beneath the table.

There was a mattress that was mildewed beyond redemption, and enough old newspapers to wallpaper the entire hostel, but they also managed to rescue a bookshelf from trash pile, and set several rugs aside for Kek to beat the next day.

“I found a chest of clothes. Want to dig through them?” Kek called from his half of the attic.

“We’d better. At least they're free.”

Since the hostel boarded travelers, there were a lot of things from Europe and the States. Bakura scored three pairs of jeans, some red corduroy pants that he decided he liked, and several t-shirts with English phrases that Bakura couldn't read.

Kek found both jeans and khakis, two blouses that Bakura swore belonged to women but couldn't convince Kek to put back, and a few other t-shirts.

“Bakura?” Kek stared at his pile of clothes. 

“What's wrong?” Bakura found himself resting his hand on Kek's shoulder.

“Can I get a job, too? Do you think someone would hire a maniac like me? I want… I want to work, and have an place of my own, and a future. I want- is this stupid? That having my own bed sounds better than destroying the world now?” He fidgeted with his clothes. “It's stupid, right? I shouldn't want this.”

“Fuck it.” Bakura shrugged. “Let's try it. Let's stay here and save up for an apartment, and try to live like real people.” Bakura pulled away, toying with a long strand of his hair. “Three thousand years as a demon got really old. I wouldn't mind something different.” 

“T-together? You don't mind if we stick together?” Kek turned away, uncharacteristically shy.

Bakura grinned. “I named you, so you're kinda my responsibility, yeah?” 

“Good because I don't want to be alone,” Kek blurted out in a quick breath as he flung his arms around Bakura. “I've always been alone. I-”

“We'll watch each other's backs,” Bakura said. 

His hand somehow ended up resting against Kek's cheek. Their eyes caught and Bakura felt strange, although he wasn't sure why. All he knew was that their eyes lowered at the same time as they started to lean just a centimeter closer.

Bakura heard footsteps and he jumped to his feet. He set the clothes on top of the table he fixed and found his dust rag. By the time the landlady was up the stairs, Bakura was finishing up the last of the dusting in a quick frenzy.

“Hey, I said get lunch!” 

“Sorry, _yadonushi_.” The phrase slipped past Bakura's tongue out of old, old habit- _yadonushi_ , definitely not _sorry_ , politeness still felt foreign and weird on Bakura’s tongue. “We lost track of time going through everything.”

“This junk? Did you find clothes at least?” 

“Yes!” Kek showed off one of his ridiculously frilly blouses.

“That will look very nice on you, dear,” the landlady said.

“We fixed some things, too.” 

Kek rushed to show her the table and bookshelf. The way he ran about like a child at his first festival fascinated Bakura. Why? Why couldn't Bakura turn his eyes away? He should have been mocking Kek, scorning him for being an idiot, but he couldn't think of anything facetious to say just then.

The landlady shook the table, as if she was sure it’d start wobbling again if she shook it and just the right speed, but it held no matter how she leaned her weight into it. She did the same with the bookshelf. 

“You sure did. I’ve never had tenants do such a good job before. I might have to bake something extra to go with dinner tonight.” 

“No need.” Bakura crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. 

The smeary dust on the window looked like a swallow flying towards the sun, and that was _far_ more interesting to Bakura than hearing praise or noticing the way Kek’s eyes lit up when he heard it. True, it was probably the first authentic praise he’d ever heard, but they were dark spirits stained with cruel deeds and blood. They didn’t need a pat on the head, only a place to stay for a few nights. 

“Come eat.” The landlady snorted and mussed up Bakura’s hair as she walked back towards the stairs. 

“Oh, hey.” Kek grabbed the cardboard box and jogged towards their landlady. Bakura cringed when he saw what Kek was doing. He hadn’t wanted Kek to show her the box until _after_ he had a chance to sneak back up to the attic and read them, but Kek opened the box and showed her the plastic wrapped comics. “Bakura found these and said they might be worth something, but we wanted to read them first. Is that okay?”

“Those?” The woman scowled at the box. “I kept those after two teenagers from the States skipped out without paying their bill. They tried to come back later to get them, but I said I threw them in the trash. You can have them.” She patted Kek’s shoulder and walked down the steps. 

“Look.” Bakura followed her, lecturing himself for what he was about to do and doing it anyway. “You could sell those on the internet and make up the money you lost.”

“Ha! That was almost twenty years ago. I had my fun getting back at those punks, and now those magazines are just taking up space, and I hate computer stuff, so it wouldn’t be worth selling them.” 

Bakura was starting to like their landlady, mostly because she was the type that approved of petty vengeance. And, while Bakura considered all his drives for vengeance to be righteous and not petty, he couldn’t help but approve of the old woman fucking with two punks that tried to short her on paying their bill. The fact that she had generous helpings of pork shogayaki waiting for them at the table didn’t hurt Bakura’s opinion of her any. 

They didn’t see the other two residents. Bakura assumed they were sightseeing or shopping. He didn’t mind the quiet of he and Kek alone in the kitchen. Bakura sipped on a cup of scalding green tea, sighing in pleasure from the heat of the drink. Kek mimicked him, but he winced.

“Too hot?” Bakura asked with a chuckle. 

“My gums hurt.” 

“Well, stupid, don’t tear open plastic cases with them.”

“Well, how else were we supposed to open them?” Kek frowned, trying his tea again and managing to half-hide another wince. 

“I would have thought of something.” 

“Psh, we’d still be at the park screaming at the Duel Disks to open instead of sitting here.” 

“Fuck you.” Bakura took a long swallow of tea, smacking his lips and exhaling a loud _ahhh_ of satisfaction when he was done. 

Kek did the same, although he grit his teeth when the hot tea stung his gums.

“Gargle with salt water after you eat. It should help them heal faster.” Bakura shook his head as he ate a bite of rice. 

Kek grumbled something in reply, but the food distracted both of them too much to put any real effort into continuing the argument. After their lunch they cleaned up their dishes, and Bakura showed Kek how to use the kettle to heat up water so he could treat his cut gums. 

“It didn’t hurt last night.” Kek sulked.

“We were exhausted and hungry.” Bakura shrugged. “Here. Swish this in your mouth and then spit it into the sink.”

“Spitting’s vulgar.” Kek chuckled before filling his mouth with warm salt water. 

“Well, swallow if you want, but it’s salty.” Bakura smirked.

Kek sprayed water across the counter, choking and laughing. “Dammit! Look what you made me do!”

“How the hell do you not know how to use a kettle, but you got that joke?” Bakura scowled at the mess, grabbing a towel and wiping it up. 

Kek shrugged, swishing a second mouthful of water. This time he managed to gargle for close to a minute before spitting in the sink. They wandered back to the attic. It took them over half an hour to carry all the trash down to the dumpster, another hour to finish dusting, and the last half of an hour sweeping and mopping. By the time they were done, they felt grimy and tired. 

“Dibs on first shower.” Kek raced towards the stairs.

“Oh no you don’t!” Bakura chased after him.

They pushed and shoved their way down the stairs. Bakura sprinted ahead, but Kek pulled him back by the hair and took the lead. Bakura leapt on Kek’s back, riding piggy back down the hall as they both shouted. They ended up toppling down in the hallway, wrestling and grabbing at each other’s clothes. Kek flipped them so that he was on top. He smacked his hand over Bakura’s mouth to muffle the curses. 

“Shhhh, you’re going to get us kicked out.”

Bakura moved Kek’s hand so he could retort. “You’re the one that made this a challenge.”

“Yeah, but…” Kek frowned. “I like it here, so I don’t want to piss off our landlady.” 

“Does that mean I get to shower first?” Bakura leaned up, grinning. 

“Sure, sure.” Kek rolled his eyes and then rolled off Bakura so he could stand. 

“You’ve gone soft.” Bakura snickered as he brushed off his pants and took the last three victorious steps to the bathroom. 

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” Kek curled his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms. The veins in his arms popped from the tension in his tendons. “To be _someone_ but be treated like you're _nothing?_ To not even be considered a person? To being so unwanted that you’re sent to the Shadow Realm with no one to even miss you? To go through all that and then…” He grabbed his hair in frustration. “I don’t know, from all that to chocolate cake and people that don’t look at you like you’re a monster.” 

Bakura knelt down and untangled Kek’s finger’s from his hair. He lifted Kek’s chin up so they were eye level. 

“Yeah, I know.”

“I just don’t want to fuck this up.” A mild hint of coral ruddied his spice-colored complexion as he looked at Bakura. “I don’t know how we got out of the Shadow Realm but… I _like_ this.” 

Their faces were close, and Bakura felt the same pull from earlier, but just when he decided to succumb to the maddening urge to lean forward, they heard the door open and two excited voices chatting about finding ceramic cats on sale. Bakura wanted to punch the wall beside him, but instead stood up and backed away towards the bathroom door.

“Guess we better hurry before those assholes try to steal our shower time.” 

“They can get in line.” Kek snorted, scratching beneath the bandana covering his hair.

Bakura shut the bathroom door and turned on the shower to warm as he undressed. After six hours of cleaning, the hot water felt great against Bakura’s skin. He sighed and slid to the shower floor, allowing the water to pour over him. Bakura raked his nails across his scalp. His fingers tangled in his hair and he yanked them free. 

What the hell was wrong with him? He kept saying please and thank you. He was going to get a job. He was fraternizing with Malik’s freaking dark half! Memories of the Shadows filtered through Bakura’s head, how he’d held Kek in the sheerest of darknesses. It was if their embrace had been the thing to make the Shadows vomit them out into the real world. A crooked grin marred Bakura’s face at the thought. 

“Hurry up!” Kek pounded at the door. “You’re going to take all the hot water!”

Bakura sighed, instantly regretting the tender thoughts he’d been indulging in. To compensate, Bakura turned off the water, wrapped a towel around his waist, and leaned against the door. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want a shower next?” Bakura called through the door, a grin on his face.

“You know damn well I do.”

“Huh, yeah, I guess I should get dressed and open the door.”

“Try not to take three thousand years executing your plans, Bakura.” Kek snorted, the sound carrying even through the wooden barrier between them. 

“Yeah, but… hmmm… where did I put my socks?”

“Quit being a dick and open the door!”

“I mean, it’s not like you really _need_ a shower.” Bakura laughed as he slipped into his clothes and continued to dry his hair with the towel. “A stray dog like you should be used to being a complete mess.”

“Bakura!” 

“I’m trying, but the door won’t open!” Bakura laughed and jiggled the door knob.

“Bakura if you don’t open this door right now I will flay you alive! I will carve you into tiny pieces, cook you on a hibachi, and serve you to the other tenants! I will-”

Bakura yanked the door open and pressed a finger against Kek’s lips. “Shhh, you don’t want to cause a scene.”

Kek narrowed his eyes at Bakura, which made the entire moment even funnier to him. Bakura winked as he walked off. Still, he couldn’t help a final jab before he left Kek alone. 

“Enjoy your shower- if there’s any hot water left.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Kek continued to glare at Bakura even after his shower. They washed, dried, and folded their new clothes and went to eat dinner, but Kek’s scowl didn't fade. They ate alone again. Their other two “roomies” had gone out drinking with friends, so Bakura didn’t mind glaring back and verbally sparring with Kek throughout their meal. It wasn’t until their landlady brought out a plate heaping with pastries that Kek’s expression softened.

“What’s that?” Kek blinked at the round cakes, sniffing at them.

“Dorayaki. I haven’t made these in forever, but you guys did such a great job upstairs, that I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s a sweet. You’ll like it.” Bakura reached over and grabbed one. He took a bite to show Kek that he was being honest.

Kek tried to glare at Bakura again, but he couldn’t stay angry in the face of homemade dessert. Instead, he bowed his head, thanked their host, and grabbed a round cake in each hand. He chomped into the first dorayaki, eyes growing round.

“These are great!”

“Thank you.” Their landlady grinned and ruffled Kek’s hair. “I wish everyone appreciated my cooking as much as you. Don’t worry about dinner dishes. You two have done enough. Relax for the rest of the night.”

They muttered thanks, Kek with his mouth full, and ate until their bellies felt round and full. Bakura sighed and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment to appreciate everything. He remembered Ryou cooking, and eating, and relaxing afterwards, but those feelings of contentment always felt filtered through the cursed gold of the Ring. Now Bakura felt through his own nerves. It’d been so long… since he could relax, since he felt full, since he knew he was safe. He hadn’t felt safe since before the fire- confident that he could handle any danger that arose, yes, but never safe.

“Bakura? Are you okay?” Kek asked.

“Yeah, and it’s freaking me out a little.” He opened his eyes to stare at Kek. “Not used to being okay.”

“I know what you mean.” Kek smiled.

“Come on.” Bakura sat up and pushed himself away from the table. “Let’s dig through our new comic stash.”

“Our?” Kek raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we both did the work.” Bakura waved a hand like the entire affair was casual and meaningless, not wanting to make a big deal out of the fact that he was sharing.

They flipped through the stack of comics and looked at the cover art for each one.

“Can I read this one?” Kek pulled out one of the first X-Men comics and stared at the cover.

“That’s the one I wanted to read first.” Bakura tried to hide his grin.

“You got first shower, so I get first choice in comics.” Kek hugged the plastic wrapped issue to his chest.

“Or…” Bakura stayed on the bed and pressed up against Kek’s side, leaning against him. “We can read it together.”

“Um… sure?”

Bakura moved the comic away from Kek’s chest so he could use it as a pillow. Kek was warm and Bakura felt the firm layer of muscles beneath Kek’s shirt. His eyes lowered and his breathing slowed. He felt the back of Kek’s knuckles grace across his cheeks and Bakura gasped, rolling his eyes up so he could look at Kek. Kek stared back, but they didn’t say anything, not for a long moment.

“I… guess we should start.” Kek pulled his attention back to the X-Men comic.

Bakura shifted so that the back of his head rested against Kek’s chest instead of his cheek. He slung a leg casually across Kek’s legs and pulled the blanket across their laps.

“Are you comfortable?” Kek asked in a facetious tone.

“Yes, you make wondrous furniture,” Bakura returned Kek’s tone with his own patented dry sarcasm.

“Tch, whatever. I guess it’s easier for both of us to see the comic this way.”

“So…” Bakura couldn't help looking sheepish when he asked, “Can you read this?”

“Yes, Bakura. I can read. Wow.”

“It’s in English.”

“So?”

“So? You’re from Egypt?”

“Malik had mind slaves from all over the world. He could steal their language, their memories, anything he wanted from their minds. How do you think we knew Japanese?”

“Okay, that’s all good and well, but the important thing is you can read in English.”

Kek blinked. “Wait. You can’t, can you?”

“I mean… Ryou took a few semesters in high school, but I sort of kept making him skip classes in order to take over his body and try to kill the Pharaoh.”

“That sounds about right. Too bad for you.” Kek grinned, leaning back and opening up the comic to read.

“Don’t be an asshole. Read it out loud!”

“You’re such a manipulative fuck. I thought you got close to- whatever. I was stupid. I guess all you wanted was a free translator.”

“I don’t see the problem. This is comfortable, isn’t it? I just thought it’d be convenient for both of us.” Bakura growled.

“Fuck you, look at the pictures and guess.”

“I don’t see why you’re so aggravated.” Bakura sat up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t ask for what you wanted in the first place.”

“Ask? You mean nicely? That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Kek raised an eyebrow. “Is that all it takes to destroy Mr. Thief and Stealer of Souls? A few manners and five seconds of being sincere? I mean, besides getting blasted by Ra. We know that works, too.”

“Fuck you, and I’ve had way too many manners since we’ve been back. It's like I’ve been contaminated by my old host somehow. It’s creeping me out.”

“Hmph, not my problem.” Kek smirked. “I’ll tell you what, if you ask me _very nicely_ , and actually mean it, I’ll _consider_ reading this out loud.” Kek waived the comic in the air as further temptation.

Bakura’s face deadpanned. He stared at the comic, and then sighed, and turned towards Kek. He dropped his eyes before speaking.

“Please read it to me.” Bakura clenched his hands into fists. “I fucking hate you, you know that?”

“That wasn’t very nice,” Kek sang in a sweet, mocking voice.

“Fine. You want nice? I’ll ask you _real nice_.” Bakura shoved the blanket off of his lap and sprung to his knees. He flipped around, straddling Kek’s lap and digging his fingertips into the back of Kek’s spiky hair. Bakura leaned close, licked his lips, and in his most husky voice, whispered, “I would _greatly_ appreciate it if you’d read the _fucking_ comic out loud…” he leaned in closer, until their noses brushed together, “Kek.”

“I… uh…” Kek’s mouth hung wide open. He blinked his eyes several times before pushing Bakura to the rug. “You’re being manipulative again. It’s pissing me off.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Bakura scrambled back up to sitting and frowned at Kek’s accusation.

“Yes you were.”

“I was being nice.”

“Do you really think that’s nice?” Kek narrowed his eyes at Bakura.

“Felt like a nice way to ask to me.” Bakura chuckled. His cheeks felt hot. At the very least, it had been a fun way to ask.

“I give up.” Kek groaned and leaned back against the pillow. “Come here. I’ll read it out loud.”

Bakura glared at Kek’s chest. It looked inviting, and he’d really enjoyed laying against Kek, but Bakura felt like it was a trap. The moment he lay down and got comfortable, Kek would get pissed off again.

“Well?” Kek scowled, already getting testy.

“Well? Are you going to complain and push me away like you did last time?”

“Gods, and here I thought I was the emotionally stunted one.” Kek started laughing. “You honestly don’t understand why I’m pissed, do you? The Ring fucked you up worse than the Rod fucked me up.” Kek grabbed Bakura, pulled him back into bed, and leaned Bakura against his chest. “I won’t push you away this time.”

Bakura frowned. He had a… squirmy feeling, in his chest and stomach. Something about Kek grabbing him and _placing_ him was making Bakura feel… odd. Excited? A little? Like the thrill before a knife fight, it felt dangerous, but it also made Bakura feel alive in the same weird way that straddling Kek had made Bakura feel a moment before. Had he pulled that stunt on Malik, Bakura was sure things would have (progressed?) somehow. At the very least it would have entertained Malik enough to read out loud, and while Kek wasn’t Malik, and Bakura knew that, he didn’t expect their reactions to be quite so different.

And he _didn’t_ understand why Kek had gotten so angry. Perhaps Bakura had put himself in an opportune position to get what he wanted- a reading of the comic- but he hadn’t been manipulating Kek. He’d assumed Kek wouldn’t mind doing it in the first place, which made it different than manipulation as far as Bakura was concerned. It was wholly unlike the times he’d coax Ryou into helping him. Bakura genuinely thought he’d been acting better than before. Maybe he _had_ spent too much time in the Ring and remembering his humanity wasn’t enough to regain it. Bakura wasn’t sure if that thought distressed or relieved him.

There was a little lag between Kek silently reading and translating the text into Japanese for Bakura, but it was still more than Bakura could have gleaned on his own. He caught plenty of words, mostly pronouns and random verbs, but not enough to properly understand the story.

They went through three comics. Towards the end, Bakura kept closing his eyes. They felt heavier each time he had to open them. Then fingers tangled through his hair in an attempt to comb it, but he didn't mind how rough it felt. In fact, he enjoyed it.

“Bakura.”

“Hmm?”

“You're falling asleep.”

Bakura groaned. He turned and buried his face into the warmth of Kek's chest, too tired to move.

“I'm going to bed,” Kek said.

“Nnnn…” He was trying to say _no don't go_ , but he was more asleep than awake.

It bothered Bakura, when Kek left. Kek was warm, but that warmth shifted and started to fade. Before it did, however, Bakura felt one last drag of fingers through his hair.

***

Morning came too soon and Bakura found himself rubbing his eyes as he rode the train out of Domino and to the next town over. The city thinned to smaller shops and houses. Maples filled the gaps between buildings and the roads narrowed. Bakura also noticed more birds and squirrels and stray cats prowling amongst the tree shadows.

The town reminded Bakura of where Ryou had lived before he'd moved to Domino, and it gave him a strange sense of second-hand nostalgia. It was odd having someone else's memories permanently lodged in his brain. He supposed Kek would understand.

Thinking of Kek brought a swirl of complex thoughts and feelings that fought for Bakura's attention. He tried to ignore it, but the train ride was long and quiet. His two escorts napped on each other's shoulders and Bakura had nothing to do but sift through his own thoughts.

He could not properly define what he thought of Kek. One moment he'd be a bright-eyed idiot reveling in some mundane experience for no other reason than the novelty of it, but a few times, such as the night prior, Kek seemed to be aware of subtleties that went over Bakura's head.

Bakura tried to puzzle out why Kek had gotten mad. He seemed to be under the impression that Bakura had been insincere. It wasn't as if reading was the only reason Bakura had lain beside Kek. They'd done it in the Shadows. Bakura had been thinking about that moment in the shower… he supposed he'd wanted an excuse, to do it again. The comic was a convenient set up for it.

Bakura's jaw slacked. He supposed he had been manipulating, not so much to get read to (which was what Kek thought), but he'd used _that_ as an excuse to lay beside Kek.

He still didn't want to _ask_. Even if Kek would say yes, he didn't want to ask. He didn't want to _need it_ , physical affection. He didn't want to be yearning for it, but he was- badly- so badly it made the tips of his fingers ache.

Bakura sighed and ran his hands through the front fringe of his hair. The rest was tied back behind his head, but there was plenty in the front for him to worry with his fingers as he struggled accepting the reality of his current, human state. And, unlike when he'd lived thousands of years ago, survival wasn't as imminent of a struggle, so now he was higher up in Maslow's hierarchy of needs.

Fuck Maslow's hierarchy of needs, Bakura didn't _want_ to want social bonds. He wanted to go back to the desert and live out of old tombs, pawning treasure to pay for what he needed to survive and letting the bitterness and loneliness chip away at his soul. It'd worked fine before. Except the part where he ended up mentally broken and plummeting deeper into the Shadow Realm. Yes, except that part, it had worked out fine.

His thoughts had circled back to Kek who'd accidentally saved Bakura by starting a fight with him. Then they'd lain together in sheer exhaustion and an indifference created by despair.

And Bakura wished he was pressed up against Kek like that even as the train slowed down and reached the station. The couple across from him stirred and stretched and checked their surroundings.

“Oh good, we're here,” the girl said.

“We can walk the rest of the way. It's not very far,” the boy stood up and lead the way off of the train.

Thankful for an excuse to quit thinking, Bakura followed them and stepped out into the fresh morning air. He could smell the dew on the grass, almost taste it on the tip of his tongue. The sidewalks looked bright white from the slant of the early day sun, and the birds bickered at each other among the tree branches.

The pleasantness of the moment bothered Bakura. The world was supposed to be a dry, barren waste. The gentle sunlight sloping against the roofs of quaint shops and the flash of dew on blades of grass were too surreal for Bakura to process. He never had to in the Ring. There was only vengeance while in the Ring, only Darkness. The Shadow Realm had been easier on his nerves than having to listen to his hostel-mates chatting while they walked through the sort of picturesque beauty that belonged on a postcard.

“When you meet her,” the guy said, “call her Granny. That’s what everyone calls her.”

“Okay,” Bakura answered with a flat tone.

“She’s a little ornery,” the girl said, “but she’s really kind once you get past how stubborn she is.”

“I’m sure I can handle it.” There was no way Bakura would be detoured by a cranky old woman. He didn’t need her to be kind; he only needed a job.

“It’s right up here. The one with the green and yellow striped awning.” The guy pointed to the right restaurant.

Dragon-painted paper lanterns hung along the awning. A sign announced the building to be a noodle shop. The inside was cluttered. The tables and chairs looked like they grew from the floor like weeds instead of being intentionally placed furniture. Ceramic lucky cats of every size sat on shelves and on the tables. White and black, gold, pink and fuchsia, there seemed to be no end to the color combinations of the plump, smiling felines. Bamboo cluttered the tables in various jars, pots, and porcelain vases. Bakura noticed beta fish swimming in a few of the larger containers.

Bakura scanned the tables, empty since the restaurant didn’t open until closer to lunch. They were old, worn, but crumb and grease-free. Same with the floors. The tiles had chips and scratches, but they were swept and mopped.

A large fishtank full of koi sat behind the register. A miniature pagoda rose from the white gravel and a sucker fish latched onto the sidewall, his fins moving in the current. A large black koi with a chewed right fin swam right against the glass, side-eyeing Bakura and the others. Bakura decided he liked that one, and he hoped it ate some of the smaller, prettier fish.

“There’s my nephew!” A worn, old voice called from behind the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area. “Come here and taste this broth! I’ve worked on it all morning!”

“Granny, this is Bakura!” the guy shouted back at her, walking towards the counters. “Remember? I talked to you about him over the phone yesterday!”

“Never mind that. All three of you get back here and taste this!”

They went into the kitchen. The girl hugged Granny and kissed her cheek. The old woman frowned and shooed the girl back a step to escape the affection.

“Here.” She retaliated for the hug by shoving a spoon of broth into the girl’s mouth.

“It’s nice,” she said.

“You’re being polite.” The old woman scoffed.

“No, I like it. Try it, Gin.”

The guy, Gin, leaned closer and sipped on the broth. “Yes. It’s good.”

Granny looked perturbed. She tossed the spoon in a sink and grabbed the ladle from the pot of broth and held it out to Bakura with such an evil grin on her face that Bakura couldn’t help but remember Kek during Battle City when he was still nothing more than an alter ego.

“Well?” she challenged, “gonna try it?”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Bakura marched up and took a generous swig. Bakura pulled back as soon as the bland tasteless heat of the broth filled his mouth.

“It tastes like shit.” Bakura covered his mouth as he licked around his gums in an attempt to cleanse himself from the watery, disappointing flavor of it.

“Bakura!” Gin’s mouth dropped. Both he and his girlfriend looked shocked, but Bakura didn’t see why. The broth tasted like sweat in a pot.

“Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!” The old woman threw her head back and cackled. “He’s got more sense than you, boy.” She turned her dark-eyed stare to Bakura. “Well? Think you can do better?”

“I couldn’t do any worse,” Bakura snapped.

“The kitchen is yours. Let’s see you try.”

Well why the fuck not? Bakura grabbed an apron hanging on a hook on the wall and tied it around his waist. He washed his hands and then glanced at the various ingredients scattered around the counter. Again, the actions were something wired into him from years of watching Ryou do the same from the lazy comfort of the Ring, and not anything Bakura had ever practiced on his own.

He added powdered dashi, tamari, and mirin to the stock. Next he tossed in dried shiitake mushrooms, leeks, and slices of daikon. He chopped up garlic and sautéed it in another pan before dumping it into the stock.

“Bakura, I think that’s too much garlic,” the girl whispered as the others watched him.

Bakrua snorted and ignored her as he pre-tasted the stock, deciding on a touch more dashi before he lowered the heat to simmering.

“Is it done?” Gin asked.

“Hell no, it has to sit.”

Off to the side, Granny nodded as she pulled a kettle from another burner and fixed three cups of tea and one cup of coffee. She then set the small kitchen table for four, and they sat and drank while listening to the old woman brag about wooing her husband with her soup and getting him to marry her and help her open up the restaurant almost sixty years prior. Bakura snorted as he got up and strained the excess vegetables from the broth. Granny cooked noodles and a few boiled eggs as Bakura thinly sliced green onions to toss in at the end.

“They don’t get it, but I do,” Bakura said as he sliced burdock for an edible garnish.

“Oh?” The old woman sang as if she didn’t know what Bakura spoke of, but he was a thief and he knew a trap when he saw one. She'd made the broth bland on purpose to see what Bakura could do to fix it.

Without further talk, they arranged four massive bowls of soup garnished with the burdock, boiled egg halves, strips of nori, and extra scallions. They each slammed two bowls down on the table, looking at the other two to try the soup first.

“You both look so intense.” The girl frowned. “You have matching, evil grins on your faces.”

“Um, it looks good.” Gin tried to smile, but he looked as nervous as his girlfriend.

Bakura sat down and grabbed his chopsticks, but he waited for the other two to take the first taste because he could see that Granny wanted their unfiltered opinions.

The girl was the braver of the two. She brought a bite of noodles to her lips and slurped them into her mouth. Her eyes rounded in surprise. She brought her hand up to her mouth as if she didn’t believe what her brain was telling her.

“It’s actually really good, Gin!”

“Really?” He asked, using a spoon to take a tentative sip. Surprise colored his expression. “I don’t understand. It tasted nothing like this before.”

“Idiots, it was barely more than water before.” Granny rolled her eyes at them, and Bakura forced himself not to laugh.

Instead he started eating. Even he was surprised at how good it turned out. Too much garlic his scrawny ass, but what did Becky know?

“You passed my test and start tomorrow,” Granny told him between slurps and smacks of her lips. “Be here at eleven to set up. We close at seven.”

Bakura nodded. He didn’t know how to feel, accomplished because he beat the tricky old woman’s little test, but also strange because he was three thousand years old and about to start his first job.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Shadow-chan, here is more chocolate cake for Kek lol

The moths refused to leave Bakura’s stomach, even as he entered through the door. Kek peeked out from the kitchen doorway when he heard them enter. His hair sprayed out and around him like palm fronds, and Bakura had to repress a grin when he saw him. 

“How’d it go?”

“Bakura’s an amazing cook!” Becky cheered, answering on Bakura’s behalf. “And he starts tomorrow!” 

Bakura tched and crossed his arms over his chest as if he didn’t care despite the rolling sensation in his gut. 

“I learned how to cook today, too.” Kek’s smile was huge. In a dark alley it would be a sign of terror, but in the cozy hostel it looked nice on his face. 

“What’s for lunch, then?” Bakura raised a curious eyebrow.

“Curry.” Kek disappeared back to the kitchen. 

Bakura broke away from the other two to join Kek in the kitchen. The smell of spices overwhelmed him, and Bakura shut his eyes so he could suck in a deep breath and enjoy it. 

“Smells good,” Bakura confessed.

“It's Tomoko's recipe.” 

“Who?”

“The landlady, Bakura.” 

“What? You're on a first name basis with her now?” 

“She's nice to me. If I ever go crazy again I'll make sure not to kill her.” 

“Yeah? What about me?” Bakura asked.

“I'll stick your head on a pike for being a pest.” 

“Awww, but I thought we were friends.” Bakura snickered as he set the kettle on for tea.

“Sit down and eat this.”

“Maybe it's poisoned.” Bakura sniffed at the pot of curry. It smelled as if it were worth the risk. “You did just threaten to put my head in a pike.” 

“I wouldn't poison the others.” Kek stuck out his tongue.

Bakura moved as if to bite it off, but Kek jerked back with another grin on his face. Bakura snorted and sat at the table. Soon it was noisy with five people talking at once while they ate curry and rice. 

“So you got a job?” Tomoko asked.

Bakura nodded. 

“That's good.”

“I still want to work off my rent,” Bakura said. “I figured I could put in two hours before work and two after.” 

“It's your choice, but if you get tired of doing both then let me know. I can start a tab until your first payday.”

Bakura nodded. He'd rather save the money. The hostel was fine, better than some of his options in Egypt when he was a thief, but he wanted an apartment of his own. Bakura glanced at Kek, who was rambling about curry spices, and grinned. An apartment of their own. 

After lunch, they watched television in the common room. Bakura found a deck of regular playing cards, but Kek wrinkled his face at them, so they ended up playing checkers. Neither of them were good at it, which made the games sort of exciting, a race to see who’d fuck up first and blow the game. After their third game, Kek stood and stretched.

“I said I’d cook dinner. I'd better get started.” 

“Need help?” Bakura asked, realizing it was a stupid thing to do. He was already going to be cooking his ass off starting tomorrow, no need to get an early start. 

“Take a nap, stupid.” Kek pushed the top fringe of Bakura’s spikes into his face. “I’ll wake you up when it’s ready.”

“What the fuck.” Bakura slapped at Kek’s hand, missed because he couldn’t see, and then pushed the hair out of his face. 

Kek only laughed at him and waved as he left the room. Bakura sighed and went to the sleeping quarters. A total of six bunk beds lined the walls. He went to their set and curled on his side. Shelves framed the head and foot of the bed, and they had their clothes, toiletries, and comic books arranged in semi-neat piles. Bakura stared at the stack of comics and wondered if Kek would want to read later. He eyes closed, and Bakura sank into his pillow, more tired than he had realized. 

He awoke to the feel of fingers trailing up and down his cheek. Bakura gasped and leaned into the touch. Bakura’s eyes fluttered open and he saw Kek’s outline, crazy spikes and broad shoulders. 

“Kek?”

“Hmmm?”

“Is dinner ready?” Bakura shook his head and pushed away whatever thoughts he’d had upon waking. 

Kek gave a grunt and walked away. Bakura pushed himself up and stumbled to the kitchen. It was concerning, how graceless he was. In his old body, no one could have snuck up on him while sleeping, and he’d be ready to spring to his feet and fight without warning. He wasn’t sure if the different body or the different circumstances were to blame, but either way it bothered him. He couldn’t afford to get soft. Sure, things appeared calm at the moment, but one never knew-

_When the Pharaoh’s soldiers may ride into your village and slaughter everyone you ever loved._

Bakura hugged himself. He didn’t want to deal with those memories any more than with his present emotions. Bakura found himself longing for the Ring and the numbness it had given him. 

“Hey.” Kek rested his hand on Bakura’s shoulder before they made it to the kitchen.

“Fine,” Bakura muttered. 

“Do you need to sleep more?”

“Just… hungry.” Bakura shook his head as if disagreeing with his own lie. 

Kek wrapped his arm around Bakura’s shoulders and led him to the table, sitting him down at the nearest chair. Bakura’s gut started to squirm again, same as it did the last time Kek pushed him around. Bakura exhaled and refused to think about it as he picked up his tea cup and examined a chip in the side instead. They were the only two at the table. 

“Where is everyone?” Bakura asked when he realized the table was set for two. 

“Out. I said I could feed us. It’s nothing great, but I didn’t have Tomoko to help me, so I picked the easiest-looking recipe.” 

“It’s good,” Bakura spoke to his spoon and not Kek after taking a sip of the soup Kek had made. 

“I wanted to bake a chocolate cake, but I was afraid of fucking it up without someone to watch me.”

“Cake’s not hard. Ryou made them all the time.”

“Thanks for letting me know that I can’t do something as simple as bake a cake.” Kek slumped his chin into his hand as he stirred the broth of his soup without eating any. 

“No, I meant…” Bakura’s mouth dropped a little. He felt … bad for discouraging Kek although he hadn’t meant to. _He felt bad_. He wasn’t used to having to deal with that. Bakura set down his spoon. “I meant you could easily do it.”

Kek snorted. Bakura scowled and poured the remaining half of his porridge back into the pot. 

“What the hell are you doing? I made that for you, asshole.”

“We’re going to skip dinner and eat chocolate cake instead.” Bakura grabbed one of the extra aprons hanging on a hook near the stove and slipped it over his head. 

“You can’t just skip dinner.”

“Why not?”

Kek blinked, thinking. His mouth twisted, but it ended up being a smirk. He jumped up, grabbed the other apron and started grabbing ingredients while Bakura preheated the oven. 

“You just sift the dry ingredients together, then mix the wet in a separate bowl, and combine them until they look like cake batter.”

“Don’t you have a recipe?”

“No. Ryou just made things. I only watched when I was bored, but fuck it, we got this.” 

He used a measuring cup for Kek’s benefit, but he was really eyeballing it. Once they had a thick, glossy batter, they greased and floured a cake pan, poured the batter into it, and then stuck it into the oven. 

“Frosting is just butter, cocoa powder, powdered sugar, and a few capfuls of milk.”

“Really?”

“See? Like this.” Bakura tossed everything into a bowl and used an electric mixer to make chocolate buttercream frosting. He dipped his finger into the mix and held it out to Kek. “Taste.” 

Kek paused, and a hint of mauve dusted the garam marsala color of his cheeks. Bakura started to lower his hand, thinking that maybe he should have used a spoon, but then Kek grabbed his wrist and sealed his thick, lush lips over Bakura’s extended finger. Now Bakura felt his own cheeks go pink and he watched as Kek sucked up. Bakura felt the warmth, wetness, and tickle of Kek mouth and tongue as it glided up his finger. 

“It’s bitter,” Kek teased. “Or maybe that’s just you beneath the chocolate.” 

Bakura grunted and pushed one of the beaters towards Kek so he could try the frosting on its own. Kek made a spectacle of licking around each wire of the beater and then smacking his lips. 

“Actually it’s delicious. That bitterness was definitely you.” 

“Then I won’t be offering you a taste of me any time soon.” Bakura turned away. The timer went off so he pulled the cake from the oven and set it on a cooling rack. 

“But ‘Kura,” Kek whined next to Bakura’s ear, making Bakura jump when he felt Kek’s breath tickle his earlobe. “I like bitter things. Coffee, grapefruit… you.” 

“If your prattle makes the cake fall, I’m going to smash the entire thing into your face.” Bakura stayed facing away Kek because he knew his cheeks were flushed from Kek’s words. 

“Are you going to lick it off afterward?” Kek wrapped his arms around Bakura’s waist and nuzzled the nape of his neck. 

A squeak escaped Bakura’s mouth before he could filter it. The embrace had been unexpected, but now that Kek’s arms were around him, Bakura wanted to melt. He leaned back, letting Kek support his weight. It felt good, to be physically supported. 

“I suppose. We did put a lot of effort into this.”

“I thought you said it was easy.” Kek rested his head against Bakura’s shoulder. 

“You want to eat outside? I need some air.” Bakura swayed a little, letting his and Kek’s bodies shift side to side. He really did need air. He couldn’t breathe at all. 

“It’s not cool enough to frost yet.”

“Better stay here and wait then,” Bakura muttered. 

“Just like this?” Kek chuckled against his shoulder. 

Bakura answered with another grunt and they moved side to side as if dancing to music that wasn’t there. Kek’s hands were locked at Bakura’s front like a seat belt buckle, and Bakura held onto them as if they were the only thing that _could_ make him safe. Besides swaying, they stayed in place. The moment terrified Bakura because of the intimacy of it, but he drank it in greedily, needing to stay physically connected with Kek. 

Once the cake cooled, they frosted it, put enormous slices on two plates, and carried their dishes onto the patio. A porch swing hung from the rafters and Bakura and Kek sat side by side and ate while still in their aprons. 

“It really wasn’t that hard,” Kek said.

“Told you.”

“But you made it easier than the books do.” 

“Books don’t have any common sense.” 

“Did…” Kek hesitated. “Did you want me to read another comic tonight?”

“If you want.” Bakura shrugged as he stabbed his cake with his fork. 

“I do, actually,” Kek said. 

“Then let’s do it.” Bakura shoveled cake into his mouth to hide his grin. 

They made sure to clean up their mess and start laundry before they did anything else. Tomoko coming home to a messy kitchen was more frightening than the Shadow Realm, so they had the damn counters gleaming before they finished. After they were done, Bakura stretched and walked back to the sleeping quarters. As soon as Bakura reached the bed, Kek grabbed him and pulled him down. 

“You like when we read like this, right?”

Bakura gave a little groan in an attempt not to answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” They both settled in and Kek started to read.

Bakura paid attention to the comics at first, but as the night wore on, he focused more and more on how comfortable he was, and how nice the moment felt. Until Kek used a strip of Bakura’s own hair to tickle his nose.

“Stop that, dammit.” Bakura smacked Kek’s hand away again.

“You’re not listening to this at all.”

“Hrrmmm, comfortable,” Bakura grumbled. 

“If you want to cuddle then all you have to do is ask. You don’t need the comics as an excuse.” 

“I like excuses.” Bakura dug his elbow a little into Kek’s rib. “Don’t stop reading.”

“No, I think I’m done.” Kek set the comic down.

“Look, okay, fine, I…” Bakura swallowed, looking away. “I like this, but it’s hard to say, okay? And I do want to read, I just… get… distracted.” 

“You shouldn’t sleep with the band in your hair.” Kek pulled out the tie holding Bakura’s hair back and started combing through the white strands.

Bakura sighed; Kek’s fingers felt amazing against Bakura’s scalp. He leaned back and the combing turned into a gentle head massage. Bakura’s thought and stress evaporated as Kek kneaded them out of his skull. After a few minutes, Bakura straightened up. 

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

“I don’t know. I only did it because I thought I’d like to.” 

“Want me to return the favor?” Bakura asked. 

“Y-you’d want to?”

“Sit on the floor.” Bakura sat up. 

Kek shifted to the ground and sat cross legged. He leaned back against the mattress and between Bakura’s legs. Bakura rubbed gentle circles around and between the golden spikes of his head. 

“Damn, this is nice,” Kek purred. 

“Yeah, pretty good idea.” Bakura’s head felt light and his stomach squirmed again. “Maybe you should follow your instincts more often.” 

They heard Tomoko return. Kek sat back on the bed and fidgeted with the comic book. Bakura watched him. Neither one managed to say anything, or go back to reading. They merely stared at each others knees, like they couldn’t imagine what else there was to possibly do with each other. 

A moment later she peeked into the sleeping quarters. “Just letting you know I’m back.”

“There’s chocolate cake on the counter,” Kek said. 

“Did you make it?”

“Bakura helped.” 

“You boys are going to spoil me living here. I’ll never want to go back to work once you leave.” She laughed and waved goodnight as she vanished from the room. 

“I’ll put this away for tomorrow.” Kek set the comic on the shelf and climbed up to the top bunk.

“Going to sleep?” Bakura asked. He wanted Kek to lay beside him, but didn’t have the voice to ask. 

“You should sleep. You have to work tomorrow.”

“I guess.” Bakura stared at the support boards and boxspring above him.

“Goodnight, ‘Kura,” Kek almost sang the words. Bakura couldn’t tell if he was trying to be sarcastic or flirty. 

“Whatever.” Bakura huffed, but then at the last moment added, “Goodnight.” 

***

Bakura woke up with the sun and spent two hours in the garden, weeding and gathering vegetables and setting them on the kitchen counter before grabbing a quick breakfast and rushing out the door to catch the train. At the restaurant, he learned how to read tickets, time noodles so that they’d turn out perfect, and feed all the fish. 

It became his daily routine. Wake up, garden, work, go back to the hostel, eat dinner, and read comics or play games with Kek. On his nights off he hustled Duel Monsters to make extra money, nothing big, just little side bets that added up the more Bakura played. 

Gin and Becky left and the three nights alone with Kek were pleasant. With no one else there, Kek stayed in Bakura’s bed until both their eyes would shut and they’d start to doze on each other’s shoulders. By the fourth day, Bakura finally worked up the courage to ask him to stay in the same bed- he could tell Kek was waiting to be asked before he’d do it- but a new group of tenants showed up before Bakura managed. They were teenagers, loud and obnoxious, and they reminded Bakura that he and Kek needed their own place. He bought a newspaper and brought it home. 

“What are you doing?” Kek asked when he noticed Bakura circling ads. 

“Making a list of apartments for you to check out tomorrow while I’m at work.”

“Me? Why should I do it?”

“Because I’ll be at work,” Bakura said, not bothering to look up from the paper. 

“Yeah, but, I can’t talk to people.” 

“You talk to Tomoko every day.”

“That’s like saying I talk to my mom.”

“Kek.” Bakura looked up and sat the sharpie down on the paper. “I know what you were, but you’re not an alter ego anymore. You’re a nerd that plays checkers and eats too much cake. You can take a train into town and check these out. Besides,” Bakura shrugged. “Didn’t you want a job, too? You’ll never get one without an interview. This is good practice.” 

“You’re right.” Kek dropped onto the bed next to Bakura. He laid back and spread out his arms in defeat. “I’ll suck it up and do it.” 

“Tell you what,” Bakura lay beside him, rubbing Kek’s belly through his shirt. “If you do, I’ll get you some sort of a reward.”

“You’re going to buy me a present?” Kek smiled.

“I thought of it as a bribe, but if you prefer that term.” Bakura winked. 

“Yes, I want it to be a present, and I want you to wrap it.”

“What?” Bakura wrinkled his face. “That’s so excessive.”

“Nobody’s ever gotten me a present before.” Kek shrugged.

Bakura sighed, rolling onto his side so he could press closer to Kek. “Fine, fine, I’ll wrap it up. Hell, you deserve it for going an entire day without slaughtering anyone, right?” 

They both grinned. Bakura scooted even closer. He thought about slipping his fingers beneath the hem of Kek’s shirt just to feel how warm his skin was, or maybe even brushing his nose up the delicate lines of Kek’s throat, but he didn’t get to do anything before the teenagers crashed into the room and Bakura and Kek separated before the others could pile onto their beds. 

“So, tomorrow?” Kek smirked. 

“For the love of the gods, hurry and find an apartment.” Bakura side-eyed the gaudy souvenirs and trinkets the teenagers were bragging about purchasing. 

“Remember, I grew up in a tomb, so don’t bitch if you don’t like what I pick. That’s what you get for not coming along.”

“I grew up in the midsts of charred ruins with ghosts. I’m not picky.” Bakura shook his head.

The guys across the room started cheering about something and tossing pillows at each other. Kek glared at them and then turned back to Bakura.

“Want to go out?”

“What?” Bakura’s mouth went dry. 

“They’re annoying. Let’s go out.” He darted his eyes back towards their newer roomies. 

“Oh, them, yes, they’re about as fun as losing a Shadow Game.” Bakura snorted. “So, uh, what exactly should we do instead?” 

“I don’t know. I’ve never lived in Domino, you tell me.” Kek scowled at Bakura. 

Bakura looked around the room, but he couldn’t think of anything. When he possessed Ryou, he spent all his time trying to kill the Pharaoh, not checking out the sights. 

“We… could… maybe an arcade?”

“Okay.” Kek jumped up and grabbed Bakura by the wrist. “Let’s go.” 


	6. Chapter 6

They practically held hands as they walked down the street and it made every nerve in Bakura's body scream. He felt tense, as if they'd be attacked at any moment. Zorc himself would rise up from the Shadows and lecture Bakura for becoming weak. Bakura snickered from the ridiculous thought and at his own shaken nerves.

“What's up?” Kek asked, his body language casual and relaxed, the opposite of Bakura's.

“I was imagining Atem's mummy rising from its tomb and chasing us like in those ridiculous horror movies Ryou used to watch,” Bakura lied, but at least it was a funny lie. 

Kek threw back his head and laughed up at the sky. “That would be great! I’d chop him to bits with an axe!” 

“My hero.” Bakura intended to sound sarcastic, but there was something about his tone that didn't quite pull off his normal, ironic bitterness, and the words sounded flirty instead.

Kek turned his head and grinned. The tip of his tongue stuck out between his teeth as he gave Bakura a quick wink. Before Bakura thought of what he did, he reached out and poked Kek's forehead. Kek jerked back. He pulled his hand away from Bakura's and rubbed the spot Bakura touched.

“Why'd you _do_ that?” 

“I don't know.” Bakura shrugged. This time he told the truth.

“Well don't. It's, uh, sensitive. That's where the Eye of Wadjet used to be.”

“Okay.” Bakura remembered the glowing eye, but he didn't see why that area would be sensitive. “I won't do it again.”

“Anywhere else is okay.” Kek shoved his hands in his pocket, looking strangely bashful.

“Oh, okay,” Bakura said. He sounded like a moron, but something compelled him to touch Kek again, so he reached out and poked Kek's shoulder instead.

“That's better.” Kek's face looked a hint more tanned and Bakura wondered if he was blushing.

Bakura laughed from nerves again. Stupid. The entire moment was stupid. Why were they acting like this? But Kek didn't seem to give a fuck that they were being ridiculous. He grabbed Bakura's hand again and dragged him forward for a few more blocks.

“Turn right here,” Bakura said at the end of the third block. “It's right down the street.”

They reached the arcade and Bakura exchanged some money for tokens. He scooped the gold-looking coins from the dispenser and dropped roughly half into Kek's palms.

“This should keep us busy for a couple of hours at least.” 

Pink and lime colored lights flashed from various machines, and everything was _ping-beep-whistle-click_ -clicking all around them. Bakura thought it was the perfect place to score some cash from people's pockets, but before he could really consider it, Kek smacked his shoulder and pointed.

“Hey, let's play that one.”

Bakura followed Kek's finger until he saw the Duel Monsters fighting game. There were three machines, two were taken, but the third was empty. They each slipped a token into the slot and selected a character. Bakura chose Dark Necrofear while Kek picked Helpoemer.

“It sucks that they don't have Ra.”

“Probably a boss.” Bakura hit start.

The game was two-player vs two characters controlled by AI. Bakura and Kek blew through the first three rounds, but the fourth level set them up against three Harpy Ladies and they lost the first round. 

“Dammit.” Kek growled, tell-tale veins swelling at the corners of his forehead. 

“Let's get at least one of them taken out, then the other two shouldn't be so hard.” 

They followed Bakura's strategy and managed to win the second round, taking them into a third.

“Hey look, one of your plans actually worked. Who would have thought miracles were real?” Kek snicker as they fought.

“Suck my cock, smartass,” Bakura snapped as he worked his joystick in one hand while button mashing with the other.

“Right here in front of everyone?” Kek grinned. After they won the round, he lifted Bakura up and sat him on the arcade machine before grabbing his belt.

“Quit fucking around.” Bakura pushed Kek away with his foot and jumped back to the ground. He turned and looked at the screen, noticing that Dark Necrofear was executing a combo move that took away half of the computer's life bar. “How the fuck did she do that?”

“Your butt on the controls triggered a special move.” Kek cackled. “Your butt is magic, Bakura!” 

“Help me fight while we have the advantage.” Bakura leaned toward the screen, focused on the game.

“Only if I can rub your ass for good luck,” Kek said, but he grabbed the controls instead. 

They won the next two levels, but lost the one afterwards because Bakura kept trying to figure out Necrofear's combo.

“Give up, you're wasting tokens.” Kek frowned as he put another coin into the machine.

“But it's pissing me off.” Bakura slammed his fist on the six colored attack buttons.

“Here.” Kek pinched Bakura's ass.

Not expecting the pinch, Bakura jerked forward, smashing against the controls again. It worked. Kek held his stomach because he laughed so hard.

“Gods-fucking-dammit! How do you keep making me _do_ that!”

“I told you! Butt magic!” 

Bakura growled and returned to combo experimentation, until the next round when he figured it out.

“Finally!” 

“Teach me,” Kek said.

“It’s like this.” Bakura stepped behind him between rounds and placed his hands on top of Kek's, showing him how to circle the joystick just so to make the move work.

“I, uh, think I like playing this way better.”

“Oh, do you?” Bakura leaned his weight against Kek's back.

Kek purred, but then noticed they had just lost the next round. “Oh shit, nevermind. We're getting pwned. Go back to your own side.”

Bakura snorted and stood beside Kek instead of behind him. They continued to climb up the opponent ladder until they reached Obelisk. 

“Told you.” Bakura growled as the battle started. 

The god was harder to fight and used cheap attacks. It took three tries to beat him and three more for Slifer.

“It's bullshit that I don't get to play as Ra.” Kek scowled when he saw the golden sun god on the screen.

“It's bullshit that those broke-ass cards even existed.”

“You're jealous because you were never good enough to get your hands on one.” 

“Who cares? Diabound was as good as a god, and those battles were real.” 

“Who's Diabound?”

“My-” Bakura's mouth dropped open as several random memories flooded his mind. “My ka.”

“Bakura! Pay attention to the game!” Kek shouted. “Look, now you're dead.” 

“Fuck.” Bakura fished another token out of his pocket.

“Got him!” Kek cheered right as Dark Necrofear respawned. 

“Is that the game?” Bakura asked as the screen went dark.

A cut scene appeared on the screen. The sky burst open, light poured down from heaven, and an regal pharaoh with badly pixelated, spiky hair appeared.

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Kek shouted at the screen, but Bakura laughed.

The Pharaoh could summon any other monster in the game to help him. It was pretty much like fighting the game all over again. Bakura grit his teeth, leaned forward, and kept his hands steady on the controls. 

Slowly, slowly, slowly, they whittled the Pharaoh's health bar down until he was a crumpled heap on the ground and the game announced their victory.

“Yes!” They screamed in union.

Bakura jumped into Kek's arms, and Kek spun them in circles. They paused long enough to watch their characters’ endings, and then Kek spun Bakura around again. They made enough of a scene to attract several stares, but Bakura didn't care- _they had managed to kill the Pharaoh_!

“This is the most cathartic moment of my life!” Bakura laughed.

“See? We should go out more often.” Kek set Bakura down so that they stood face-to-face. They were both flushed from laughter.

“Do we get to kill the Pharaoh each time?” Bakura reached into his pocket to count tokens, looking at Kek was making him nervous.

“I'll see what I can do.” Kek stuck out his tongue as he grinned.

“Come on.” Bakura walked towards the concession counters. “I'll buy you a drink. We can toast the Pharaoh's death.” 

They clicked their paper soda cups together and wandered through the rest of the games. They ended up spending the last of their tokens on air hockey. By the time they finished, the arcade was shutting down, so they decided to walk back home.

Bakura didn't mind, as they walked home, that their hands somehow ended back together.

“You mentioned your ka,” Kek said.

“Yeah, Diabound.” Bakura grinned. “He was amazing.”

“So, you can really summon him?”

“Sure… probably… shit, I don’t really know anymore. I could when I was the Thief King.”

“Try it now. I want to see”

“I don't think so.” Bakura turned his face down. “It's late, we should probably get back. Besides, this isn't a world for ka, not anymore.” 

***

Bakura thought he’d hate working, but the noodle shop was small and personal, and Granny was a bitter, facetious old woman who attracted the sort of customers that didn’t mind back talk. Bakura had several orders of noodles boiling, stock simmering, and a half a dozen different things on the grill. He set up bowls and chopped the garnish just in time to toss everything together in the most efficient order. Damn if he was going to let the noodles get soggy and make the soup taste like shit because he didn’t time things right. 

“I need soy sauce!” A girl shouted at the counter. She was a regular that stopped by after school every afternoon, but Bakura still had trouble bothering with people’s names. 

“Then grab it. Can’t you see I’m busy?” 

“Bro, you’re so mean!” She whined in that way highschool girls often did to sound flirty, but leaned over the counter in order to reach one of the extra bottles of soy sauce. 

Bakura set two bowls on the counter and rang a bell to let Granny know they were ready. She appeared a moment later and whisked the fool to the right table. He started the next order, then finished a third bowl of soup, setting it in front of Soy Sauce Girl.

“Thank you!” She smiled at him.

Bakura grunted an acknowledgement before pivoting back towards the grill. The pace kept up for quite awhile, but eventually slowed and Bakura was able to set up his station for the dinner rush where he’d have to do it all over again. He was wiping down the front counter when Kek walked into the restaurant. Bakura watched as Kek sauntered to the counter, leaning over a seat away from the girl with the soy sauce. 

“Hey, bastard. Feed me.”

“Feed yourself.” Bakura smacked Kek’s hands. “Sit down like a normal person and don’t lean over the counter like a thug.” 

“You’re more strict than Tomoko.” Kek chuckled before sitting down.

“Are you actually hungry?” Bakura asked once Kek was seated. 

“Yes.” He grinned, licking his lips. 

“Fine, I’ll make you some damn soup.” Bakura tossed some noodles in and started chopping vegetables to go on top. 

“Are you really going to feed me?” Kek’s face brightened at the thought. 

“You’ll just be a nuisance if I don’t.” 

“It’s not like I haven’t been productive.”

“Yeah?” Bakura asked. “Did you look at a lot of apartments today?”

Kek grinned again. He still looked like a fiend about to slash a victim and pull out their intestines every time he grinned, but the expression was growing on Bakura. Kek displayed a key.

“That’s actually why I’m here. I thought that after your shift, you might want to go look at the apartment I picked out.” 

“Wow, you found one?”

“Yup.”

“Bakura! Is this your boyfriend!” Soy Sauce Girl shouted after slurping the last of her soup. 

“No!” Bakura screamed on instinct. Then he remembered that they technically _were_ pretending to be boyfriends, and that was one of the reasons Bakura managed to get his job. So Bakura laughed, and scratched his bangs, and tried to act like a flustered Ryou. “I mean, don’t shout it like that. It’s embarrassing.” 

“Isn’t he cute when he’s bashful?” Kek winked at the girl and her cheeks darkened to the color of Thai chilis. 

“Whatever.” Bakura snorted as he set a bowl in front of Kek. “Eat your damn soup.”

Kek closed his eyes and inhaled the steam rising into his face. “Damn, this smells good. I guess you’re as good at cooking as everyone says.” 

“Bakura!” the girl frowned at him. “Don’t you ever cook for your boyfriend at home?”

“No.” Bakura scowled. 

“I usually cook for him since he has to do it all day long,” Kek said. The worst thing was that it was true. Kek often did make dinner, both so Bakura didn’t have to and to give Tomoko a break. 

“Ahhh, that’s so sweet!” She pressed her hands over her heart a second, but then gave Bakura a chastising stare. “He’s too good for you.”

Kek cackled at that. Bakura tched and started drumming on the counter with a pair of chopsticks. A strange, nervous energy filled him. The boyfriend act was suppose to be an act only, a scam to get people to pity them, but they filled the shoes awfully well. Their late night reading sessions and video arcade date didn’t help matters. 

“Good gods, this is delicious.” Kek slurped at the soup like he was born Japanese. “You made it extra spicy.” 

“Of course. I’ve eaten your curry.” Bakura focused on his drumming more than Kek’s face. He couldn’t handle Kek’s stupid, stupid face at that moment. 

“You two are so cute!” Soy Sauce Girl squealed before grabbing her book bag. “I have to go, but please remember to invite me to the wedding.” 

“Get out of my noodle shop.” 

“It's not yours.” She stuck out her tongue as she walked away.

Bakura waited for her to leave before exhaling and tossing the chopsticks to the side. “At least now she might stop trying to hit on me.”

“You’re welcome.” Kek snickered. He lifted up his bowl and finished off his broth. He stopped, setting the bowl down and leaning closer to the jar of bamboo next to him. “What’s moving in the jar?”

“What?” Bakura stared in the water. “Oh, that’s just a beta. There’s a million around here.” 

Kek leaned closer and the fish flared up, a bright blue fan dancing close to the glass. 

“I think your hair’s pissing him off.” Bakura chuckled. 

“My hair? Why?”

“It’s flayed out and yellow. You probably look like competition. Males will fight.”

“Really?” Kek tapped the glass of the jar.

“Stop that. You’ll just bother him more.” 

“Do they really fight?”

“Yeah. They get territorial.”

Kek grinned at the fish as he watched it swim. 

“Don’t even think about putting two together to watch them fight.” Bakura glared at him. 

“I wasn’t even thinking it.” Kek jerked his head up, narrowing his eyes at Bakura. “I just thought it was cool that they’re kinda like me.” He went back to the jar, smoothing his finger down the glass instead of tapping. “They’re fine alone, but they don’t get along well with anyone else.”

“Pffft, who are you kidding? You’re more social than me.” 

“That’s not really a compliment.”

Granny walked up and stood beside Bakura, but she looked at Kek. “Do you want to feed him?”

“Can I?”

“Sure, here’s some food.” The old woman fished out a yellow canister from a cupboard of random junk. 

“It stinks.” Kek unscrewed the lid and wrinkled his nose. He stared at the label. “Bloodworms?”

“The fish will like them.” Granny shrugged. 

“Okay, but, are you telling me this place is full of colorful fish that like to fight and eat things called _bloodworms_?”

Granny raised an eyebrow at Bakura. He shook his head, wishing he could smack the canister out of Kek’s hand and tell him to shut up. Instead, Bakura just tried to laugh off the awkwardness. 

“He grew up in rural Egypt. I don’t think he’s ever actually seen a fish bowl before.” 

Kek was busy leaning over and dropping little dried bits into the jar. 

“That’s enough.” Granny took the canister away from him. “Too much will muck up the water, and I’ll drag you back here to clean it if that happens.” 

But Kek wasn’t listening. He rested his chin on the counter and watched the fish nibble on the food. He was so entranced by the simple action that Granny stopped her lecture, placed her hands on her hips, and smiled at him.

“Bakura, why are you just standing around? Shouldn't you be working?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bakura rushed to the kitchen and started sweeping. It was still clean from the last time he swept, but he figured he ought to do something.

“Fool, that floor ain’t dirty.” Granny cackled, and the sound reminded Bakura of Kek’s insane laugh. “Go home early today. I don’t need you anymore.” 

“Thanks, Granny.” Bakura grinned. She was a tricky old hag, but Bakura could tell she was just letting him go to be nice. Kek really didn’t realize how good with people he actually was. 

“So we can go look at the apartment now?” Kek asked.

“Sure.” Bakura hung up his apron. “Let’s go.”

He waited until they were out of the restaurant to let down his hair. He shook it out and rolled his neck from side to side to work out the tension. Bakura noticed Kek staring out of the corner of his eye. 

“What?”

“Um, nothing.” Kek looked away.

“Is it sticking up weird?” Bakura combed it with his fingers. “I mean more than normal, of course.” 

“No, it looks good!” Kek spoke a little too loudly. He started at his own voice and then shoved his fists in his pockets and stared at the concrete below their feet. “Um, really good, actually.”

“Oh… cool.” A weird, light feeling spun Bakura’s thoughts. He suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands or where to look. He settled for watching their feet step over all the lines in the sidewalk.

“Anyway, the apartment is just two more blocks from here. It’s really small, but anything bigger was too expensive.”

“I’ve slept in caves.” Bakura shrugged. “As long as the toilet works, right?”

“The bathroom is actually nice. There’s a small stand-alone shower, but a huge tub for soaking. It’s actually why I picked this specific one. That and the landlord didn’t ask a lot of questions.” 

They walked further and Bakura saw a low, single floor building. Four apartments stretched in a row, each with a number on the door. Two additional “arms” extended from the original row, each with three other units. 

“Is that it?” Bakura asked.

“Yeah, ours is on the end. D4.”

“Nice.” Bakura grinned.

Kek tilted his head. “What’s so great about D4?”

“It’s the dice for dagger damage.”

“What?”

“Dammit, Kek, I swear I’m going to buy us some RPG stuff before I even buy furniture.” 

“Okay.” Kek grinned. “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor and playing games instead.” They reached D4. Kek pushed the key into the knob and opened the door. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait, this is not an Only Human update despite it being Tuesday. Why am I posting this instead? Well, b/c my editor finally sent in my edits for Cold Like Snow (not a fanfic), and I have to work on that all week, so I wasn't able to finish the Only Human section. I will try to finish my novel edits asap and see if I can get Only Human updated by Thursday, but even in a worse case scenario, I'll just update this again and Only Human will get posted next Tuesday. Sorry to anyone really looking forward to the Only Human update, hope this is a reasonable substitution orz

The interior held the smell of an unused building, dusty and a little stale, but not foul. Bakura opened the window to let in a breeze and sunlight. The room was a simple square with earth-colored carpet pocked with cigarette burns. They could see straight through to the kitchen with old laminate, but it had a fridge, a dishwasher, and even a microwave mounted over the stove. Kek walked to what looked like a closet door and opened it to show a small washer and dryer.

“This is a bonus, right?”

“Yeah, I have no desire to go to the laundromat, so those are definitely a plus.” Bakura nodded his head. 

A single hallway waited to their left. Bakura followed Kek to the single room, another square with the same carpet, only the bedroom floor had an iron burn in the corner. 

“Just one room?” Bakura asked, his belly hitching at the thought of sharing a room with Kek. 

“Well, I figured we’d just get some cots? Or maybe hammocks? On opposite sides. It’s not like we’re going to get beds anytime soon on our budget.” Kek scratched the back of his head. “Did I fuck up? The two bedrooms cost so much more, and heat and water are included here. We’d just have to pay for electric.”

“Hammocks sound cool,” Bakura said. “We’ll just slap up some posters and get a chest to store our games.” 

“Is it stupid that I’m excited?” Kek rocked to the balls of his feet and then back to his heels. 

“Yes,” Bakura answered, and then smirked at Kek’s self-conscious look. “Don’t worry. I am, too,” he admitted. “We’re both stupid.” 

“Well, fuck. I’ve never had a life before. I get to try now.” 

“Show me the bathroom.” Bakura grinned. 

He told himself to stop it, that grinning was as stupid as being excited about being a normal fucking person. They weren’t supposed to want to be normal- they should have been gods of death terrorizing those responsible for their previous Shadow Realm imprisonment, but who was he kidding? The thought of hammocks, and posters, and eating junk food as they sat on the floor playing games together sounded like a perfect way to start a new life. 

“It’s right here.” Kek grabbed Bakura’s hand and dragged him back into the hall. Halfway through there was another door. Kek stepped inside and spread out his arms in a ta-da gesture.

The bathroom, like everything else, was old and worn. Part of the enamel was chipped away from the edge of the tub, and the sink had stains, but it was well-scrubbed and rather large considering the rest of the apartment. It had a linen closet, and a medicine cabinet, and a cupboard, and the stand up shower was a piece of shit, but fuck, the tub. Kek wasn’t kidding about the tub. True, some of the enamel was worn, but it was big enough for two grown people with room to spare.

Bakura jumped into it, just to test it out. There was a raised section on each end that acted like seats, and Bakura sat down, leaned back, and enjoyed the cool feel of enamel against his neck.

“This… is going to be amazing after work.” He opened his eyes and saw Kek leaning over and staring at him. He looked upside down from Bakura’s perspective. 

“So… is the place okay?”

“It’s great.” Bakura grinned, lowering his eyelids and staring at Kek. 

“I… um, we should probably get back to the train station. All our stuff is still at the hostel, and I want to say goodbye to Tomoko.” 

Bakura licked his lips. Disappointment leadened his gut when Kek rushed out of the bathroom, but Bakura wasn’t sure exactly why. He gave one last glimpse of the place they’d be living, before he and Kek locked the door and walked towards the train station. Kek grabbed Bakura’s hand during the walk, and Bakura squeezed it. 

“You did a good job,” Bakura said. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I definitely owe you that present I promised.” Bakura paused. “What’s your favorite color?”

“What?” Kek asked.

“Well, you’ve never gotten a present before, but… I’ve never bought one. I thought, maybe if I had some sort of idea-”

“I don’t know.” Kek looked distressed. “Marik liked purple, but do I? I… guess I like it, but it’s not my favorite.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Bakura shook his head.

“Well, now I need to know.” He frowned. “I liked that blue fish. Betas are amazing. Do they have red ones? I think a red one would look even better- like fire in the water.” Kek blinked. “Red. Red is my favorite color. I remember seeing how it gleamed when I cut the skin off of his back. The tombs were dull but the blood, fuck, so bright. It was beautiful.” Kek deflated. “I’m fucked up. I can’t even like a color right.”

“Red’s my favorite color, too,” Bakura blurted out.

“What?” 

“When I was alive the first time. Red was my favorite. At first I hated it because it reminded me of my village burning, but I wanted to be that powerful, you know?” Bakura asked, seeing that Kek understood by the look on his face. “So I wore a billowing red cloak. I wanted to look like fire. I wanted to rise up from it, like the ghosts of my people did.”

“You’d look good in red.” Kek touched the shoulder of Bakura’s shirt. 

“I’ll get you something red,” Bakura said. “Who cares why you like the color. You like it. That’s all that counts.” 

The train ride home was quiet. They sat close and Bakura fell asleep on Kek’s shoulder. He didn’t wake up until he felt Kek’s fingers touching his cheek. 

“What?” Bakura jerked up.

“You were asleep.”

“Urgh.” Bakura rubbed his neck. “The extra hustling and chores are catching up to me. At least I don’t have to garden anymore.” 

“I worked extra this morning so you could lay off tonight.”

“I can work for myself,” Bakura snapped.

“Well, fuck you. When I get a job it’ll be different, but until then I have to do something, too. Besides, Tomoko wanted me to pull things out of the attic for her, so I didn’t mind helping her.” 

“Well, since we’ll have extra time, maybe we could finish the comic we started last night.” 

“Okay.” 

Bakura fidgeted with his cuticles. “You know… if we bought one hammock instead of two, we could afford a better one instead of searching the thrift stores for two old ones.”

“Bakura.” Kek grinned, but he stopped walking and crossed his arms over his chest. “Say what you mean.” 

“I just… keep thinking about the Shadows. That moment, at the end, was nice.” 

“Oh, I get it. You want me to punch you again, like I did in the Shadow Realm.”

“After that, stupid.” 

“Yeah, my memory is a little fuzzy.” Kek scratched his head. “I remember punching you. Definitely remember that part.” 

“I fucking hate you, you know that? I hate you so much. I want- I want, your arms around mmm- dammit. Fuck, I want you to crush me, okay?”

“Like this?” Kek yanked Bakura into his chest and pressed hard.

“Yes.” Bakura growled against Kek’s chest, mortified at how happy he was in Kek’s embrace. 

“So… you really want to sleep like this?” 

“Shut up.” Bakura tried to squirm away, regretting that he ever tried to express himself. 

“Bakura, how the fuck am I supposed to pick up on subtle cultural cues that I never had a chance to observe except through Marik as a filter? And he always used people. I don’t… want to do that.” 

“I was ready.” Bakura exhaled in defeat and leaned more heavily into Kek’s embrace. “To stay like this for as long as we could. It was easy in the Shadows. Everything was desperate, and hopeless, and I was empty inside. It’s harder to admit I want it now.” 

“I wouldn’t mind sharing a hammock. I like cuddling,” Kek whispered into Bakura’s hair.

“Don’t ever make me sleep alone again. I hate it.” Bakura whispered it to the threads of Kek’s shirt instead of Kek himself. 

“I promise.” 

The light pressure of Kek’s lips pressed against the crown of Bakura’s head. His knees buckled and he almost fell, but Kek held him up. 

That night, after reading the last of their comic stash, Kek stayed under the covers with Bakura, snuggling against him. Bakura wanted to stay awake and _experience_ the moment, but he couldn't help relaxing in Kek's arms and fell asleep a few minutes later.

***

Bakura yawned. It was his day off, aka moving day, and he sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and attempting to wake up.

“We're all packed. Did you want me to move those things from the attic to the trash before we leave?” Kek asked Tomoko as he washed their breakfast dishes.

“I want you to move that stuff to your new apartment,” she said with a grin.

“What?” Kek shook water off of his hands and dried them. “We can't pay-”

“I don't need any of that junk, and you're the ones that fixed it all up. It's yours. I'm even making those goons staying here use their car to help move it over since they're late on their rent.”

“We, we can't take all that.” Kek shook his head.

“It's not much. Table, chairs, a few bookshelves, and the dresser, you still need a bed and a sofa, but at least it's a start.”

“Thank you,” Bakura said.

“Yeah, thanks- I … I'm…” Kek started sniffing and rubbing his eyes. “I'm going to miss you.” Kek wrapped his arms around Tomoko and wept.

“It's okay. You can visit whenever you want.” She held him and stroked the back of his head until he calmed down. 

“Can I really visit?” Kek fisted the tears away from his eyes.

“You’d better.” She stood in her toes to kiss Kek's temple. 

Bakura stayed at the table and behind his coffee mug. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene. He remembered crying just like that after a dream that his mom left the village and never came home, and she had held him in the same way Tomoko held Kek, stroking his hair and kissing the side of his forehead. 

Kek dried his eyes and stole Bakura's coffee cup from his hands so he could rinse it. Bakura opened his mouth to complain, but let it drop because he saw that Kek wanted a distraction. 

“I guess it's time.” Bakura pushed back from the table and stood. 

“Yeah.” Kek sighed.

“Don't worry, you'll do fine on your own.” Tomoko patted Kek's shoulder. “I better find that gaggle of fools and give them your address so they drop your stuff off at the right place.”

Once she left, Bakura walked up behind Kek and pressed his forehead against Kek's shoulder blades.

“Want to help me pick out the hammock?”

“Yeah, that'll be fun. I'll go get our bags first.”

They didn't have much, but taking the train to the next town was still a hassle with several bags and a box of comics. Bakura was happy when they got to their apartment and dropped everything into their bedroom floor. Their roomies showed up moments later with the rest of their stuff, dropped it in the courtyard without asking which apartment, and took off while shouting about sake.

“Fucking dicks.” Bakura shook his head as he walked outside and hauled the furniture to their apartment. 

Kek helped and it didn't take long to move everything inside- the one advantage of owning almost nothing. They arranged everything where they wanted it and Bakura started walking around the apartment.

“What are you doing?” Kek asked.

“Making a list of things we need; towels, toilet paper, cleaners, blankets, maybe a lamp if we see a cheap one, and the hammock. There's other things we'll have to get, a plunger is always handy, but we can get other things over time.”

“Marik never bothered with those things.”

“Of course not. Between the Ghouls and Baldy, Marik had plenty of people to wait on him, but we decided to play it straight. That means buying our own toilet paper.” 

Kek chewed on his lower lip as he thought about it. Bakura sighed, shook his head, and grabbed Kek’s hand, leading him out of the apartment. They made sure to lock the door. The town overall was nice enough, but Bakura wasn’t going to take any chances. They went to the closest 100 yen store for cleaning supplies and toilet paper, then they walked to a nearby thrift store to buy towels, a blanket, and two lamps that were part of a cheap set. Kek held up a skillet and showed it to Bakura.

“Hey, don’t we need this stuff too?”

“Fuck,” Bakura swore. They already had a lot of bags, and he only had so much money saved up from hustling card games to spend (and he was trying to keep enough extra so he could buy Kek something nice. Since this was going to be Kek's first present ever, Bakura figured it should be a good one). “Oh godsdamn, we don’t even have groceries.” 

Kek laughed.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because being human is really stupid!”

Bakura started laughing too. They bought the skillet, a rice cooker, two bowls, two cups, and two plates. Afterward both their hands were full so they decided to go home.

“Okay, we’ll get some rice and eggs. I get paid in two days and then we can buy proper groceries.”

“I need to have a job.”

“Fuck it.” Bakura shook his head. “You’ll get one. Fuck, this isn’t so bad. Should have seen me as a child before I figured out how to use Diabound and rob tombs. A fucking raw onion was a feast to me!” 

“Um…” Kek averted his gaze. “You don’t have to buy me a present. Let’s just get the hammock instead. Then we’ll have somewhere to sleep.”

“Hell no, I said I would do it.”

“Wait until after you get paid.”

“We’re buying groceries after I get paid. Then rent and electricity. We’ll need at least one cell phone eventually.” Bakura shook his head. “It’ll be fine once we get set up. It’s always rough in the beginning. And hell, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor. I used to sleep in ash and rubble with ghosts screaming over my head. The fucking floor will be fucking fantastic.” 

“You… really did that?” Kek asked. 

“Yeah, I…” Bakura frowned. “Didn’t want to leave them.” 

“Sounds like you’re more like your old host than you think. You just put up with too much as a kid.” 

“You’re one to talk.” Bakura scrunched up his nose. “You’re softer than Malik when given half the chance. He would have hated the hostel- you got adopted by the landlady.” Bakura laughed again. “Oh my gods, could you imagine him sharing one blanket on the floor?”

“I can imagine you two fighting over it and you ending up cold.” 

“Probably.” Bakura poked Kek’s arm. “See? There's the bright side to all this.”

“What?”

“At least I won’t be cold. You’re a furnace.” 

“Oh, ha, yeah.” Kek grew oddly bashful and started looking around the street as they walked. Bakura grinned, preparing to say something even flirtier to see if he could fluster Kek some more, but then Kek stopped and pointed across the street. “Hey, what’s that?”

There was another apartment complex- just as shabby as their own- and a dumpster sat at the corner where everyone dumped their trash. Next to the metallic bin sat the ugliest couch Bakura had ever seen. It was brown… ish- with a slight green tint. At least Bakura hoped it was a tint and not mildew. Orange, brown, and mustard yellow flowers featured along the cushions, and the bottom looked like it had suffered the wrath of more than one set of cat claws.

A box sat upside down on the monstrosity with the world FREE painted in black. 

“Hey, Bakura-”

“Oh hell no!” Bakura shouted, mouth open in horror. “That couch is _ugly_. That couch is _beyond ugly_. Free isn’t good enough! The city should pay someone to burn it!” 

“But is it comfortable?” Kek started crossing the street. 

“You can’t be serious.” Bakura chased after him. 

“It’s free, and it’s better than the floor, right?”

“Uuuuurgh! I can’t believe we’re even considering this! You better sniff that fucking couch before you sit on it. It probably smells like piss.” 

Kek did bend down and sniff the abhorrent orange, brown, and yellow flowers. “It smells a little like curry powder. I can live with that.” Kek dropped down and sighed. “Ra in Heaven- Bakura sit on this fucking couch.” 

Bakura was too busy sniffing the couch to touch it. Not just one spot, but the arms, the seat, the back, he wanted to make sure there was no mildew, or piss, or zombie plague hidden in the fabric. It did only smell of mild curry. It wasn’t necessarily the fragrance Bakura would have picked out for his furniture, but it was definitely better than cat urine. He checked the back for anything that might have been rat holes, and lifted up a cushion to make sure there were no used drug needles hidden beneath. It was clean, just ugly as truth. 

“I said sit down and try it.” Kek tossed the box over his head and into the dumpster. Then he grabbed Bakura and dragged him down until they sat pressed together.

Bakura growled in protest, but he’d actually been thrilled when Kek yanked him down. And the couch! Holy gods, the couch! It felt like whatever home was suppose to feel like. Not that Bakura had known that feeling since another life and three thousand years ago. The cushions hand a way of making your spine melt right into them in the nicest way.

“Better than the floor, right?” Kek grinned. 

“Fine. Let’s carry it home.” 

They loaded their bags onto the cushions. Kek took the front end and Bakura took the back end and they lifted it up and started making awkward shuffles towards their own apartment. Kek had to walk backwards, and kept slowing them by looking over his shoulder, but they eventually reached D4 and set the couch down. 

Kek unlocked the door and they moved the bags inside first, then the cushions, and tilted the sofa until they managed to force it inside. By the time they were done, Bakura dropped to the ground like a ghetto apartment snow angel and blew a loud huff of air out of his lungs. 

“We still have to go to the store if we want to eat.” 

“But I’m tired and the couch is comfortable.” Kek said after sticking the cushions back in place and dropping back on top of them. 

“Want to just order something?”

“We need a phone or internet to do that,” Kek said, staring at the ceiling.

“Dammit.” Bakura raised his head up so he could drop it back down onto the carpet. “I took everything Ryou ever had for granted.” 

“Okay, here.” Kek rolled to his feet. “Give me the money for rice and eggs, and I’ll go to the store while you unpack the shopping bags?”

“Sounds fair.” Bakura reached into his pants pocket, pulled out his wallet, and tossed it to Kek. “Get bento, too. I don’t want to wait for rice to cook.”

“Okay.” Kek said.

Bakura pushed himself to his feet and started shoving things in cupboards and drawers. He realized they didn’t have pillows either, so he rolled up their four towels and set them on one side of the couch before plopping down on it to lay down. Bakura dozed as he waited for Kek to come back with dinner. As soon as he started to relax, something tickled his bare toes. Bakura kicked with his foot and nuzzled harder into the shitty material of the threadbare, used towels they’d bought. The tickle returned and Bakura kicked again, only this time felt something soft with his foot.

“The fuck!” Bakura jerked up to a crouch, pulling a pocket knife and prepared to stab whatever the fuck was near him. 

A masked face with black bead eyes stared back at Bakura. Before Bakura could register what he was looking at, Kek opened the door. 

“Honey, I’m home!” He noticed Bakura and stopped, staring at him. “What's wrong?” Then he noticed the racoon dog and his lavender eyes went wide. “What is that thing?”

“You’ve never seen a racoon dog before?” 

“Racoon dog? Is it like a kitten?” 

“No it’s not a fucking kitten! It’s a flea-ridden trash-panda! Help me shoo it out of the apartment.”

“But Bakura, it’s cute. Let it stay.” 

“It’s not a pet,” Bakura snarled. “It belongs outside. I bet the filthy thing was a stowaway hiding in the couch. Urgh, I knew this sofa was a bad idea.” 

The raccoon dog didn’t seem concerned about the conversation or Bakura’s screaming. It climbed to the back of the couch and padded towards Kek, sticking out his hands. 

“He’s hungry.” Kek set down his bag, pulling out a bento and popping open the lid. “Do you like shrimp?”

“Set’s balls! Do not fucking feed that thing.” 

“But he likes it. He’s so cute, oh gods I’m naming him Mukhfi.” 

“Do not name that rodent.”

The raccoon dog crawled right into Kek’s open arms pawing for another one of Kek’s shrimp. Kek used his toe to lift the shopping bag up and drop it into Bakura’s lap.

“There’s the rest of the food. I’ll share mine with Mukhfi.” 

“When he bites you, and you get rabies, I’m going to kill you both,” Bakura grumbled as he put the eggs in the fridge and got his own bento.

Despite his protests, Bakura ended up eating dinner on one side of the sofa while Kek and Mukhfi sat together on the other side and shared a hard-boiled egg. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still in the 9th level of editing hell, so another update for this fic! Thanks to everyone that left a comment last chapter! Once I'm done editing, I'll catch up on replies!

After Kek ran out of things Mikhfi wanted to eat, he disappeared into the couch. He didn’t dart into a hole, or slip between the cushions. He motherfucking disappeared, and that’s when Bakura jumped to his feet. 

“Okay, the couch is haunted by a demon and it’s time to put it back outside and burn it.”

“Why would _you_ be afraid of a little demon?” Kek gave Bakura a perturbed look. 

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe because the last time I got into close proximity with a demon I was manipulated, driven mad, used as a pawn, forced to spend 3,000 years entombed in a relic created with the blood and flesh of my entire village, and still lost all my card games against the Pharaoh- why would I trust this kind of shit now?”

“This is hardly the Millennium Couch.” Kek snorted.

“Aren’t you even a little concerned that that furry bastard just vanished into thin air?” 

“People thought I was a demon too and you’re letting me stay.” 

“I’m… used to you. I’m not exactly sure what that thing is. Let’s play it safe and just burn the couch. I’ve seen enough of Ryou’s movies to know that if we don’t, we’re going to end up with blood dripping down the walls and body parts scattered around the floor.”

“Really?” Kek’s eyes flashed in excitement at the description. 

“No, you should be disturbed, not giddy- nevermind, I just remembered who I'm talking to. Fuck!” Bakura paced across the living room. “Fine, keep it, but I swear to god you’d better not get possessed somehow. I will be so pissed off. We’re trying to be normal now.” 

“Okay, I’ll do my best to not invite any demons into my body, okay?” Kek snickered. “So are you coming to bed, or… y’know, you could pace all night instead.”

Bakura scowled at the sofa, but he had to work in the morning and it’d been a long day. With a sigh of defeat, Bakura dropped his pants and marched towards the couch in boxers and a t-shirt.

“Fuck it. Guess I'm taking my chances with the demonic couch.”

“O-oh yeah,” Kek stuttered as he stared at Bakura. “This is the first time we haven’t been in the hostel, so we can sleep in boxers.”

“Would you prefer sweatpants?” Bakura asked, wondering why Kek looked nervous. 

“No, uh, no. I’m fine, uh…” He slipped out of his own pants and quickly pulled the blanket over himself. 

“Oh, yeah.” Bakura stopped in front of the couch as understanding swept over him as his blood seemed to rush exactly where didn't want it to. 

“You okay?” Kek asked.

“Fine.” Bakura answered in a quick breath. “Fine. Tired. I should… get the light.” 

He walked away again so he could turn off the lights. Black rushed over them and it helped. The darkness reminded Bakura of the Shadow Realm and Bakura walked back to the couch the second time with more confidence. He lifted up a corner of the blanket and slipped beneath it. 

Kek’s arms coiled around him and pulled them chest to chest. Bakura muffled a grunt, and then let out a slow, content breath. Kek rubbed little circles around Bakura’s arms that made Bakura shiver because of the gentleness of the touch. Their legs brushed together and it was a new sensation that had Bakura’s breath hitching in his chest. He grew painfully hard, became aware of how thin his boxers were, and squirmed so that he faced away from Kek.

“Can’t breathe,” he muttered as an excuse.

Too late, Bakura realized his mistake. Not only was he now a little spoon, but his ass was firmly smashed against Kek’s crotch, and Kek seemed to be having the same reaction to their proximity as Bakura.

But the couch was comfortable, Bakura was convinced it was stuffed with human souls and that’s why they seemed to melt into it. It was hard for Bakura to hold tension in his shoulders when the cushions hugged his body- and so did Kek. Bakura reached back; his hand slid against Kek’s hip, and Bakura fisted the material for a moment before smoothing it back down again. As Bakura’s hand cupped the curve of Kek’s hipbone, he had the strange revelation that he’d never _felt_ a hip before that wasn’t his own. He never held someone to dance, or explored a lover's body, or even accidentally grabbed a guard while in a fight. This was _the first time_ his brain could register what this was like, and all Bakura could do was rub his palm back and forth and occasionally curl his fingers at the hem of the leg of Kek's boxers to feel the skin beneath the cotton before smoothing over the material again. 

Kek nudged his hips forwards. His erection pressed against Bakura’s rear, and Bakura held his breath, his cheeks burning his face. He thought about turning around again and nudging back, but he was overwhelmed, completely overwhelmed, and couldn’t do anything but squirm against Kek and rub his hip. Their legs brushed together again, and Kek nuzzled into Bakura’s hair. Then Kek grabbed Bakura's torso, hard, and squeezed as tightly as he could. 

“This is real, right? This isn’t a trick the Shadows are playing to torment us?” Kek asked.

“This is real.” Bakura answered in the dark. 

“How do you know? I’ve been tricked before.”

“Want to know how I know?” Bakura reached up and clasped Kek’s forearms as if adding his own strength to the embrace. “There are cigarette burns in the carpet, and the fridge only has a dozen eggs in it, and we’re using towels as pillows. That’s real. When the Shadows trick someone, they blind with a dazzling image- everything perfect, too perfect. The Shadow Realm, Zorc, they lack humanity in a way even we never did. They don’t understand that a little bit of bad makes you love something even more. The chip in the tub gives it character, the dead flies on the window sills mean this moment is real.” 

“Do you really believe… that a little bit of bad can make you love something even more?” 

Bakura twisted so he could face Kek. All he could see was the silhouette of spikes cut against the meek glow of streetlights sneaking past the slits in the blinds behind the sofa. He cupped Kek’s face. 

“Yeah, Kek. Nobody is all good or all bad. We’re mixed up, and that means we can understand each other.” 

They pressed their foreheads together for a moment, until Bakura really couldn’t breathe because of how close they were. He turned back, accepting his role as little spoon, and held Kek’s arms around him again until they both slept. 

*** 

Bakura yawned and stretched when the alarm went off. Tomoko had given him the awful thing when he first got hired, but it was the first time Bakura failed to wake up on his own before it went off. Bakura scratched his head and sat up. Kek tried to cling to him, but Bakura placed Kek’s hands down and smoothed the stray hairs off of his brow. 

It was a nice change to have neither chores before work nor a long train ride to reach the next town. He dressed, and fought his hair into a bun, and walked the few blocks to work humming a song he didn’t exactly remember, but was sure it was something his mother had once sang to him. 

His workday was busy, as usual. He fed the fish and then started to prepare stock and prep vegetables before their lunch crowd appeared. When the day was over, all Bakura could think about was the lovely bathtub with the chipped lip. It was big enough for two, and Bakura thought maybe Kek would want to soak with him. Bakura felt himself… soften, when he thought of Kek. It was frightening, how he felt, but Bakura caught his reflection in a store window on the walk home and stopped to really stare at himself. 

He saw a little of the thief he once was, mostly in the set of his jaw and the way his eyes narrowed in automatic suspicion at everything in the world, but otherwise… he looked like he belonged in Japan, Ryou’s long lost cousin. He had Ryou’s delicate cheekbones and eyes, his narrow nose and thinner lips. It was like he’d been reincarnated, and Bakura supposed he had been. He fought the Pharaoh in video games now, and snuggled on the couch with an orphan who’d been adopted by a hostel’s landlady and a tanuki who possessed a couch. It wasn’t weirder than anything else that’d ever happened to him.

Bakura snorted, smirked at his own reflection, and walked home, wanting to see Kek. He struggled for a second to get the key to turn in the worn out lock, but then he opened the door and stepped inside. 

“Hey, Kek, I was wondering if you wanted- holy shit.” Bakura started laughing. 

Bubbles covered the kitchen floor. In some areas, the suds rose almost half a meter tall. The mess soaked into the edge of the living room carpet.

“Just- shut- the- fuck- up!” Kek shouted through sobs. He knelt amidst the foam with a towel in each hand and tears running down his cheeks.

“Oi, oi.” Bakura shut the door, slipped off his shoes and socks, and tiptoed to the kitchen. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I can’t do this!” Kek wailed. “How am I supposed to be a human being when I can’t even run a dishwasher!” He rubbed his eyes against his bicep. “What did I do wrong? I don’t understand how I fucked up something so easy.” 

“Did you use a tab?” Bakura asked as he crouched beside Kek.

“Tab? I used dish soap?”

“The liquid kind?” 

“There’s more than one kind?” Kek’s face wrinkled, still shouting. “How was I supposed to know that?” 

“You weren’t.” Bakura wrapped his arms around Kek and held him. “Tomoko didn’t have a dishwasher. How could you know? I only know because of Ryou.”

“Stupid Malik,” Kek hissed between clenched teeth. “If he was normal- I wouldn’t be so fucked up!”

“You wouldn’t exist.” Bakura used his thumb to tilt Kek’s face up. He smiled when Kek looked at him and traced Kek’s cheek. “And hey, I kinda enjoy the fact that you exist. This humanity thing would be underrated if I couldn’t watch you stumble through it with me.”

Tears welled up in Kek’s eyes, and Bakura _hated_ seeing tears in his eyes.

“It’s just soap and water.”

“I fucked up all the towels.” 

“I’ll go get some more.”

But Bakura didn’t stand up. Instead, he dropped down to his knees, allowing the bubbles and water to soak through his jeans. He leaned in and snatched a kiss from Kek’s mouth. They both closed their eyes as their lips moved tentatively against each other. When Bakura pulled away, Kek gasped. 

“I’m going out to get towels-”

“We can’t afford-”

Bakura kissed him again and realized it was a great way to shut an Ishtar up. He should have kissed Kek back in Battle City. He’d take that over getting roasted by a god any time. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Bakura shook his head. “Towels are cheap, and I’ve been stingy so I could get your present- which I’m also getting, so throw those towels in the wash, and I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know about the tabs.”

“It’s not your fault.” Bakura combed Kek’s hair with his fingers, and then got up and left before Kek could apologize again. 

He went to the thrift store with soap-soaked pants. He grabbed the entire stack of towels, and the manager noticed Bakura carrying an armload of towels with wet pants and a sheepish look on his face, and she gave him a discount for buying the entire batch. After the thrift shop, Bakura counted up his money. He’d been trying to manage to save enough to get Kek a nice, red leather jacket that he’d seen, but the dishes, the eggs and rice, the extra towels… Bakura still had enough for _something_ , but not a leather jacket. He sighed and started walking towards the house, glancing at the shops and wondering what the fuck he was going to do.

Then he saw the pet shop and had a brilliant idea. Bakura bought a fishbowl, dark purple gravel, dechlorinator, and two cheap fake plants. Then he went over to the betas and picked the brightest, most blood-red one he could find. His shopping bags in one hand, and a plastic container in the other, Bakura rushed back to the apartment with a huge grin on his face. 

“I’m back!” He shouted into the apartment.

“Did you get the towels?” Kek asked, standing over the rice cooker with bubbles all around his feet. The apartment carried the warm scent of cooked rice as Kek used a regular spoon to stir it because they didn’t own a rice paddle yet. 

“I got something better than towels.” Bakura held out the fish. 

“Idiot.” Kek rubbed at his eyes, but didn’t cry again. “You shouldn’t have bothered.” 

“I _wanted_ to.” Bakura set everything down on their table. 

Kek walked up behind him. Despite the wet floor, Kek picked Bakura up, turned him around, and set him on top of the table beside the fish. Bakura opened his mouth to complain, but Kek’s tongue slipped inside and he moaned instead. 

“Thank you,” Kek whispered against Bakura’s lips. “You taught me how to say that, you know.”

“It’s just a bad habit I picked up from my old host.” Bakura chuckled at himself because the statement was true. 

“H-how do I…” Kek pushed away from Bakura and went towards the fish. 

“Put the gravel in the bowl. Add the plants. Fill with water. Then follow the directions for those drops.”

“It says it has to sit to work in the water.”

“Then let it sit. He’ll be fine in the cup until then.” Bakura stretched and groaned. He grabbed the towels and they used them to mop up the floor and then Bakura stripped and stuck in clothes and the towels in the washer.

“Should have saved one for yourself,” Kek said.

“Shit,” Bakura cursed. He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Whatever. I’m still taking a shower and drawing a bath to soak in afterward.” He glanced at Kek. “Want to join me in the bath?”

“W-wh-what?” Kek giggled, his face going flush even through his complexion. 

“It’s common in Japan. You rinse off in the shower and then relax in the tub.”

“With other people?” Kek asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“Look, I don’t care either way, just thought I’d offer.” Bakura snorted and walked towards the bathroom. 

“I didn’t say no!” Kek followed. 

“Give me a second to shower first.” Bakura laughed.

“You’re already naked. What’s the point of me waiting now?” 

“Whatever.” Bakura stepped into the shower, more nervous than he thought he should be. 

He washed his hair, soaped up, and rinsed everything as quickly as possible. He heard the bath running as he rinsed. Bakura didn’t have a towel, so he had to wring out his hair the best he could and shake dry before stepping out of the shower cubicle. 

“Thought you’d want to go straight to the tub,” Kek said. 

“Thanks.” Bakura dipped his body into the huge bathtub. “Fuck. This is nice.” 

Bakura kept his eyes closed and relaxed. He heard the water turn on as Kek hopped into the shower. A few minutes later the rush of water stopped, but Bakura didn’t bother opening his eyes until he felt Kek’s bodyweight displace the water in the tub. 

“It’s nice, right?”

“Sure is.” Kek sighed. 

“After today, we both deserve a bath.” Bakura stared at the ceiling. 

Water stains bloomed like yellow carnations above him. They sat in silence for several, long minutes before Kek spoke.

“I made rice.”

“Sounds freaking delicious.”

“We still don’t have towels.”

“I’ll use a shirt.”

Kek laughed. Bakura grinned and shifted so that he could look at Kek instead of the ceiling. “I’m serious. It won’t work as well, but fuck it? Better than dripping over the rest of the carpet.”

“You’re the same as always.” Kek rose out of the water after they soaked for close to twenty minutes.

“How do you mean?” Bakura averted his eyes, although he really wanted to stare at the way the water gleamed off of Kek’s body. 

“Even when things don’t go according to plan, you just roll with it.” 

“Ha, yeah. I had to learn that skill pretty early on. It’s the only way I survived.” 

“Pffft, I’ll get some shirts then.”

Kek went away and returned with two of their more worn t-shirts. They did a piss-poor job drying, but Bakura made do and put on dry clothes. He used the wet shirt to wrap up his hair, adding a hair dryer to his mental list of shit they needed to buy. 

“I’ll serve the rice.” Kek walked onto the now dry kitchen floor and grabbed their only two bowls out of the dishwasher. “There’s still bubbles in here.” 

“Just rinse them off. I think we may actually have a dish towel left.” 

“Fuck. I forgot dish towels even existed.” Kek pulled the drawer and took one of the smaller towels out. 

“I’m going to put the laundry in the dryer.”

Bakura shook his head even as he moved over to the washer. More and more he was adapting to regular life, but it was still odd to think about putting towels in the dryer. Not only was it the sort of thing he used to make Ryou deal with, but there hadn’t been dryers in Egypt thousands of years ago. Bakura would just wash his clothes in the river and nap naked in the sun until they were dry. 

“Here’s dinner.” Kek set the bowls on the table. 

With his hands free, he took the beta's cup and popped off the plastic lid, dumping the water into the bowl. The beta swirled like a quick flame before righting himself and breaking the surface for a breath. 

“They breath air from the top.” Bakura pointed. “And they blow nests out of bubbles.”

“How do you know?”

“Granny rambles about them all the time.” Bakura started digging into his food. “It’s good.”

“Fucking liar. We don’t even have salt.”

Bakura laughed. “You’re right. I was lying. It’s not bad.”

“Makes it real, right?”

“Yes.” Bakura winked. “The Shadow Realm knows I love steak. It’d never try to tempt me with plain rice. This moment is utterly real.” 


	9. Chapter 9

They fell asleep the moment they hit the couch. In the morning, Bakura was back up and getting ready to start another day at the noodle shop. 

“Does Ifrit have any food?”

“Ifrit?” Bakura hopped into clean boxers and pants, glancing at Kek who still half-slept on the universe’s ugliest couch. 

“The beta.” 

“Oh… fuck. I’ll ask Granny for some and give you money tomorrow when I get my paycheck. We need some food, too.”

“Want some eggs for breakfast?” Kek asked. 

“You eat them. I can eat at work.” Bakura shot Kek with his finger as he walked out the door. “I’m looking forward to another tasty bowl of rice for dinner.”

“Don’t you mean another bath?” Kek gave him a sly smile.

Bakura was halfway out the door, but he stopped and peeked back inside. “You bet your sweet ass.” 

He shut and locked the door and headed down the street. The sun warmed his skin and small beads of sweat pricked at the back of his neck before he managed to get into the kitchen. Bakura walked into the noodle shop and started his prep work.

“Coffee?” Granny asked as she held out a cup.

Bakura nodded and accepted the handle with a muttered _thanks_. He took a sip and winced.

“Granny, there’s whiskey in this.”

“So?” 

“It’s ten in the morning?” 

“So?” 

“Fuck it then.” Bakura took another sip. “I should probably eat something, though.” 

“Here.” The old woman set a bowl of rice and some fish onto the prep table beside him. 

“Where’s your breakfast?” Bakura asked.

“Never touch food before noon.” She took a long draw from her own coffee cup. “Bothers my stomach.” 

Bakura laughed as he chopped onions, carrots and daikon. Gran was such a character that it almost made Bakura feel like the noodle shop wasn’t real. The Shadows _did_ have a bad habit of creating scenarios that showed a person’s secret desires, giving them a taste of what they never knew they wanted before yanking it away and allowing the full force of despair to settle in when a person realized they were actually alone in the darkness. 

How many times had Bakura sat, as the Thief King, on the Pharaoh’s throne? In his fantasies, Bakura would lick Atem’s blood off his own fingers as the priests begged to be spared- just like some of Bakura's cousins and neighbors had begged- and, like that night, Bakura would ignored the pleas as he made them watch each other die. Oh yes, it had been all he ever wanted, when he was in the Ring. And now that those dreams were crushed to the point to where no vision could convince Bakura that it was real, the Shadows had found something more creative to torment him with. 

Bakura’s nose itched and he had to scratch it with his sleeve to avoid contaminating his hands. He took a third gulp of coffee and the whiskey stung the back of his throat in a way that the Pharaoh’s blood never did in his darkest daydreams. Bakura stared at the long-set stains and score marks ruining the cutting board’s surface. He noticed how a few of the carrots had ugly spots that needed to be trimmed away before he chopped them. The drain in the kitchen floor, which they cleaned often, always managed to gather gunk and hair in the grate from when they hosed the floor down once a week to clean up anything the mop missed. 

Bakura reminded himself, just as he’d reminded Kek, that the Shadow Realm wasn’t clever enough to add hair to the drains. It didn’t understand that the ugly brown spots made the carrots real, and Bakura’s nose had never itched while sitting on top of the Pharaoh’s throne. 

“Kek loved the betas so much that I bought him one,” Bakura said as he continued to chop. 

“Keep the bowl out of direct sunlight. It’s bad for them.”

Bakura grinned as he reached over for a few bites of rice. He found it appropriate, that the scrappy little fish that loved to fight and flared out with bright colors also prefered dimmer places. They were the perfect little symbols for Kek. 

“Could I steal a pinch of food until I can get to the store tomorrow? My dumbass forgot to buy some.”

“Your dumb ass forgets to feed yourself, too. That’s why I had breakfast ready.” Granny wandered away and returned with a little container of beta food that she dropped into Bakura’s apron pocket. “Don’t forget that when you leave tonight.” 

“Thanks, Gran.”

“Eat your breakfast. It’s going to be busy today and if you pass out I’m just going to kick you aside and keep working.”

“Fair enough.” Bakura shoveled more rice and a bite of fish into his mouth. 

They day was busy, but at least Bakura had a mild buzz to carry him through the first hour. From the moment they opened the doors at 11 am, the lunch rush hit and didn’t die down until it was time to prep for dinner. Bakura’s shirt clung to his sweaty body by the time he pulled off his apron to go home.

“Fish food!” Granny shouted at him. 

“Fuck!” Bakura pivoted and went back to his apron to grab the canister before walking home. 

“Hungry?” Kek asked when Bakura walked through the door. 

“Yeah.” Bakura nodded. He’d had a lunch at work, but that’d been hours ago and Bakura was hungry all over again. 

“Here’s some rice.” Kek set a bowl on the kitchen table. 

“You know, some fish would go good with this rice.” Bakura leaned close to Ifrit’s bowl and licked his lips.

“I will fucking kill you if you hurt my fish.” Kek growled, but he sat down and started eating his own rice because he knew Bakura was only talking shit. “Speaking of of fish…”

“Here you go.” Bakura passed him the fish food. 

“Thanks.” Kek’s face brightened. He sprinkled a small amount of the food on top of the water’s surface, and watched Infrit dart up to the top to snatch a bite before sinking lower and circling, then attacking another bite. 

“I’ve never really owned anything before, but even if I counted all of Marik’s things, this is the second greatest thing I’ve ever had,” Kek said as he watched the little red fish. 

“What’s the first greatest thing?” Bakura asked as he ate. 

“My own body.” 

Bakura nodded. It was a practical answer. After eating, Kek took their bowls and rinsed them. Bakura stretched and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes, trying to relax away some of the stress in his muscles. He slit his eyes opened enough to glance at Kek. 

“So…” He leaned against the kitchen counter. His toe traced the patterns of the linoleum below him. “You look tired.” 

“It was busy.” Bakura rubbed the back of his neck. 

“I could draw a bath for you- if you want.” 

“Sounds. Fucking. Amazing.” Bakura grinned as he opened his eyes fully to look at Kek. “Did you want to join me again?”

“I suppose.” Kek shrugged as if it didn’t matter either way. 

Bakura nodded and stood up. He stripped right there in the kitchen and tossed his sweaty work clothes directly into the washer to be dealt with later. Naked, Bakura walked to the bathroom. Kek sat on the bathtub’s ledge, testing the water with his hand as it poured into the tub. He noticed Bakura watching and winked. Bakura turned away in a hurry and took a shower while the tub finished filling. 

The moment Bakura eased into the bathtub, however, a loud sigh escaped his mouth, and then a little moan followed. He couldn’t help it, the heat felt so damn good against his stiff body. Bakura closed his eyes again and let his mind wander as the hot water did its job. He felt Kek’s foot nudge against his own. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep.” 

“M’not,” Bakura argued, but he did feel like he was about to nod off. 

_Relaxed_ wasn’t exactly a feeling Bakura was used to, and he was a little hypnotized because of it. He heard the water slosh in the tub and felt a slight current as Kek moved. Then their hips bumped beneath the water and Bakura’s eyes shot open at the jolt the sensation gave him. Kek cupped his wet palms on either side of Bakura’s face. 

“Hey, I mean it. Don’t fall asleep.” 

“I’m not,” Bakura insisted, actually awake that time. 

Kek continued to hold Bakura’s face, staring at him. Bakura lowered his eyes wondering what Kek would do, but Kek did nothing. Bakura held his breath, then blew it out in a slow whoosh. 

“You can, if you want to,” he said.

Kek blinked, letting go of Bakura’s face and looking away. “How’d you guess I wanted to?”

“You were staring at my lips.” Bakura smirked. 

“Oh,” Kek let the awkward syllable hang in the air. 

Bakura kept his face stoic, but under the water his fingers picked at his cuticles as he waited for Kek to do something, but Kek only stared at the little chip in the tub’s enamel. Bakura slid his foot along the bath floor until his toe poked Kek’s ankle. 

“Hey.”

“Yeah?” Kek asked. 

“Are you telling yourself this is real?” Bakura asked because of the way Kek’s eyes didn’t stray from the little metal blemish. 

“Yes.” Kek nodded. 

Bakura swung into Kek’s lap, enjoying how round and bright Kek’s eyes grew when he did it. He grabbed Kek’s right hand from the water and raised it up, thumbing up and down Kek’s palm. 

“Your hands are pruney. I noticed when you touched my face.” Bakura rested Kek’s hand to his cheek again. He leaned into the touch, trying to work up his nerve. 

“Is that bad?” 

“No,” Bakura answered. “But it’s real.” 

Kek reached up with his other hand so that he held both sides of Bakura’s face again. He pulled their mouths together, a little too hard. Their lips smooshed against each other, but Bakura made it work, grinding his mouth into Kek’s in order to get friction between them. They pulled back to suck in sharp, violent breaths before smashing against each other again. They pushed away for another breath, and clashed for a third and final time. 

After the third, awkward kiss, Bakura slipped back to his own seat in the tub and they both panted and clung to the porcelain ledge as if they both needed the support of it. Bakura’s cock stood straight up in the warm water. The feeling made his stomach tight. He wanted to shove his hand under the water and squeeze himself, but he somehow couldn’t, not with Kek sitting there and watching. It wasn’t like Bakura couldn’t see Kek’s hard shaft below the wavy surface, but Bakura felt overwhelmed again, like on the couch the other night, so he pulled himself from the tub.

“Guess we should get out before we turn into raisins.” 

“I folded the towels. They’re in the linen closet,” Kek said, breath still short. 

“It’s nice having you around.” Bakura grabbed two towels and handed one to Kek, who drained the tub and stood. 

He wanted to somehow explain that he wasn’t trying to get away from Kek. He wasn’t. 

“To give you food and fold towels?” The tip of Kek’s tongue danced along his lips as he grinned. 

Bakura’s jaw dropped as he watched Kek’s tongue move. He wanted to feel that tongue in his mouth. He even stepped forward to find out what it’d feel like running against his own, but the thought alone made Bakura’s heartbeat freak out and the blood in his cheeks boil. Instead of kissing Kek, Bakura blushed and tied the towel around his waist to somewhat hide his hard on. 

“And play cards. Rummy or poker? You pick.” 

Kek’s mouth twisted in thought. Bakura almost screamed at him for doing it on purpose, but he didn’t think Kek was. Bakura was just hyperfixated on Kek’s mouth. 

“Rummy.”

“Okay. Play in the bedroom?”

“I guess.” Kek shrugged as he rubbed himself down with the towel. 

Again, Kek wasn’t doing anything overtly sensual, but Bakura couldn’t help staring at the way the towel shimmied across Kek’s “greatest possession.” Bakura swallowed and chose to go into the bedroom to dry himself and slip into sweatpants before he nutted all over the bathroom floor. 

He shuffled the cards as Kek walked into the room and grabbed boxers. Kek sat down in front of Bakura and cut the cards. They played rummy, then switched to checkers, and then Bakura’s ass was tired of the floor and its threadbare carpet and he wanted to nestle down on top of their demon-possessed, ugly fucking couch. 

“Guess we should add a television to our list of shit to buy in a month or two.” Bakura stood and rubbed his ass. 

“We can re-read the comics.” Kek stood as well and popped his back as he stretched. 

“Yeah, it’s something to do. Let’s move to the couch, though.” 

They bundled together in their usual position as Kek read outloud. Bakura ran his fingers in lazy trails back and forth across Kek’s forearms as he gazed at the colored pages in front of him. Every now and then Kek kissed the back of Bakura’s head and he’d hum in appreciation to show Kek that he liked when he did it. 

Bakura found himself staring around the living room for flaws to assure himself that this was _possible_. It didn’t seem possible. Bakura wondered why the gods even let him have a moment this good, after everything he’d ever done to destroy everything good in the world. 

“You’re not paying attention again,” Kek teased. 

“I’m freaking the fuck out.” 

“Why? Because of the kissing?”

“No- yes? Because I liked it, and I like this. I never… wanted anything like this, before, and now I have it and I’m terrified it’ll disappear.” 

“Exactly.” Kek nodded, pressing his face into Bakura’s hair. “Exactly… holy shit that cheap-ass apple shampoo smells good in your hair.” 

“Yeah.” Bakura grinned. “It smells good in your hair, too.” 

“I need this to be real.” Kek held Bakura closer and trembled. 

“Me too.” Bakura closed his eyes. “This couch is ugly. This couch is so fucking ugly.” 

“So it’s real, right?” Kek asked. He sounded desperate. 

Bakura winced. The couch was a tanuki trick of some sort, Bakura was rather sure of it, so it wasn’t the best example. Bakura turned so he could face Kek.

“We’re real.” 

Kek laughed. “Fuck, that’s true. There’s nothing more flawed than us.”

Bakura grinned. He never thought of it like that, but it was true. He pressed his forehead against Kek’s chest and lay for as long as he could before he had to squirm back to his little spoon position in order to fall asleep. 

\---

The next morning was payday, and Bakura was thrilled. They had another busy day, but Bakura went straight to the grocery store afterward. He bought more rice and eggs and some instant noodles- cheap things. Bakura also grabbed a few bags of frozen vegetables, whatever he found on sale, and nori, a few random other staples, and tofu because it was cheaper than beef. However, he did buy some pork for their dinner that night. They needed to celebrate. Bakura wasn’t sure _what_ they were celebrating for- having food in the cupboards, Bakura supposed. That was plenty of reason for celebration in his book. 

He had too many bags and the walk home sucked, but a grin stayed plastered on Bakura’s face the entire time. He had to kick at the door because he couldn’t reach his keys once he got back to the apartment. Kek threw the door open with a fierce look on his face. He looked ready to kick the ass of whoever dared fuck with their door. Bakura grinned at him and his expression changed to surprise, and then amusement. 

“Should have come home first. I would have helped.” Kek stepped back to let Bakura inside, and helped him unpack all the groceries from their plastic bags. 

“Nah, it was easier to stop by on my way home.”

“I have rice,” Kek said. 

“Save it. We’re having something a little better tonight. Bakrua waved the pork in front of Kek. “Figured you’re a little tired of eggs.”

Kek smiled, showing that he was but not verbally complaining. 

“Oh yeah.” Bakura set the pork down and reached into his pocket. “I’m saving the rest for bills, but here’s a little money so you can buy fish food for Infrit, and I guess kibble for Mukhfi? He sure as fuck doesn’t get shrimp everyday.” 

“You’re going to feed the couch demon?” Kek laughed. 

“Well, I don’t want him getting pissy. We sleep on that couch.” 

Kek grabbed a skillet and poured a splash of oil inside for the pork. They made a improv stir fry with half the pork- saving the other half for the next day- and broccoli, and then tossed it on top of the rice. 

“So good.” Kek moaned a little as he sat at the kitchen table. “Just because it’s something else makes it the best food I’ve had since we left Tomoko’s.”

“Yeah,” Bakura agreed. 

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Kek set his chopsticks down and ran to the living room. He reappeared with three books in his hand.

“Where’d you get those?” Bakura asked. 

“I got a library card.”

“How, without an I.D.?” 

“I showed my rent receipt and pretended that my Japanese was really bad until the librarian gave up and just let me have one.”

“I’m surprised that worked.” Bakura laughed. 

“Me too. I’d rather not manipulate people. It reminds me of the part of Marik that I hated, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do to get free books.” A shy look claimed Kek’s features. “Thought we could read them together.” 

“Sounds good.” Bakura tried to hide his grin behind a bite of food. 

After dinner he took a quick shower just to rinse the restaurant smell from his skin. Bakura made sure he lathered extra apple shampoo into his hair so the smell would be strong when Kek leaned in close. The thought of another bath tempted him, but he didn’t think he could handle it, so he didn't suggest it. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Drops this off and returns to the shadows* (hopefully I'll get to respond to reviews after a few more days) 
> 
> also- I forgot how angsty this chapter is compared to most of my stuff, but these two had to have a least one argument

“I’m going to visit Tomoko today while you’re at work,” Kek said as Bakura cursed and gnashed his teeth in order to fight his mane into a bun tight enough to hold out for his entire shift. 

“Sounds good. I work double anyway, so there’s no use you being stuck inside alone all day long.” 

“I’ll tell her you said hi.”

“Sure, sure.” Bakura nodded, getting his keys and wallet so he could walk out the door. He paused and stared at Kek. 

He wanted… to do _something_ , but he wasn’t sure _what_. Just, something, to make Kek think about him a little throughout the day. He thought about a quick kiss goodbye, but it made Bakura wrinkle his nose. Too domestic, it wasn’t quite right, and it made him blush. Bakura sighed and gave up. 

“So… I’ll see you tonight, right?” Kek asked, as if they didn’t sleep on the couch together every night.

“It’s a date.” Bakura winked and rushed out the door before he could embarrass himself any further. 

Usually Granny handled closing by herself, but Saturdays stayed busy, so she had Bakura stay. It was also the night they washed the walls, sprayed the floor, and did any other random cleaning tasks that they had ignored the rest of the week.

By the time Bakura walked home, his pants were soaked through from the knees down and he reeked of food and cleaning and sweat. He wanted a hot shower to scrub the entire day off of his skin. 

“Hey.” Kek sat on the stoop in front of their door. 

His eyes gleamed from the distant street lights, but the rest of his face was in shadow. Mukhfi sat in his lap, digging for something in Kek's open palm and munching on it before going back for seconds. 

“Did you lose your key?” Bakura asked.

“Nah, just waiting for you,” Kek held out his palm towards Mukhfi.

Bakura noticed it was kibble in his hand. The racoon gathered up the last of the pellets and stuffed them into his maw before scampering away. Kek stood up and dusted his hands off on the back of his jeans. 

“Enjoy your trip?”

Kek grinned and nodded. “I have a basket full of dorayaki that she sent with me.” 

“Hmm, sounds good,” Bakura muttered as he let himself inside the apartment.

“Hungry?” Kek asked.

“Dirty,” Bakura replied. “Just want a shower.”

“Should I draw a bath?” Kek's tone was nonchalant, but Bakura saw a spark light up in his eye.

Bakura very much wanted to ignite that spark to a violet blaze, but he was swaying on his feet. His smirked looked like a exhausted smile.

“I'd like to, but I'm afraid of falling asleep.”

“Rough day?” Kek's face fell. 

“Just long.” Bakura bit the inside of his cheek. “We could-” 

“I have an idea.” Kek grabbed his hand and pulled him like he always did. “But first, let me show you something.”

“What is it?” Bakura perked up, curiosity overcoming his fatigue.

“A surprise.” Kek _kekeked_ into the dark hallway. It reminded Bakura of Battle City. “I wanted to show you as soon as you came home- that's why I was waiting outside.”

Kek lead them to the bedroom and turned on the light. He grabbed something flat off of the bookshelf and showed it to Bakura. Bakura started at it, a little plastic square that said, _Hi, my name is KEK._

“Is that some sort of spell using your _ren_?” Bakura asked, too tired to guess why else Kek would want his name written down.

Kek tossed his head back and laughed. “I guess. It magically tells the customers what to call me.”

“Customers?”

“Bakura, it's a name tag.”

“I know that, stupid, but why do _you_ have one?”

“Because I got a job today!” Kek's grin consumed his entire face. His eyes crinkled and his tongue dabbed out the side of his mouth. 

“What? How? Where?” Bakura woke up, trying to figure out how Kek got hired somewhere.

“Pet store. I came home in time to go and get food, but when I walked in, the entire store was wrecked.”

“What happened?” 

“Ferrets. They escaped. The guy at the store was chasing them. I got them back into their cage, and then I helped him clean up, and then he asked me if I wanted a job.” Kek blushed. “I didn't realize he was the manager when I offered to help. I just didn't have anything better to do since I knew you’d be at work for a few more hours.”

“Fuck yes, you got a job.” Bakura forgot himself and wrapped his arms around Kek.

“Heh, what’s this for?” He asked in a jittery tone. 

“I’m proud of you.” Bakura’s face felt hot as cayenne, and it was probably just as red, but he pushed through his stilted emotional issues and said what needed to be said. “When we first came back to the world, I pretty much expected you to run down the street in a murdering spree, but…” Bakura shook his head. “Instead you helped drag me back into humanity with you. You’re doing great. I’m proud of you.”

Kek stood in Bakura’s arms, sniffing. “That’s what Tomoko said, and she doesn’t even know I have a job yet, but she hugged me and said she was proud of me.” He sniffed harder, leaning heavily against Bakura. “I never… thought I’d hear anyone say that, let alone two people.” 

Bakura held Kek’s cheek and kissed up his jawline. He still couldn’t handle watching Kek cry, although he knew this wasn’t like the day on the kitchen floor. 

“Oh yeah, your shower.” Kek huffed a breath of laughter and wiped at his eyes before dragging Bakura out of the bedroom and to the bathroom. 

He ran the bath while Bakura scrubbed himself. Bakura yawned all through the shower. When he stepped out, Kek held him by the shoulders and sat Bakura down on the edge of the tub.

“Just sit here for two minutes while I rinse off.”

“Okay,” Bakura murmured, too tired to argue. He closed his eyes, his chin resting on his chest. He heard Kek slide the shower door open and then slip into the hot water of the tub.

“Join me.”

Bakura yawned again, opened his eyes, and turned around. He swung his legs over the lip and into the water first, and then lowered the rest of his body. Before he could settle into a comfortable position, Kek grabbed him and pulled him into his lap.

“Kek?” Bakura's eyes sprung open as Kek held him.

The inside of the tub had little grooves for people to recline and relax. Kek lay in one and situated Bakura so that his head laid against Kek’s chest and his body draped across Kek’s. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. Relax. Sitting like this, you can fall asleep in the hot water and not have to worry about sinking.” 

Bakura’s jaw drop when he realized what Kek was doing. He forced his mouth closed and swallowed. 

“Sounds nice, what’s in it for you?” Bakura teased, too overwhelmed not to try and joke about the situation. 

“Well…” Kek’s voice dropped to a low, sultry tone. His fingers traced back and forth along Bakura’s Adonis belt. “Touching you like this is pretty good trade off.” 

Bakura’s breath hitched. His stomach twisted at the gentle touch beneath the hot water. He waited a moment to see where Kek’s fingers would go, but instead of towards Bakura’s groin, they traveled up his body and toyed with his abdominals instead. Bakura released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He enjoyed the soft touches for a moment longer, but between the hot water and the steady rhythm of Kek’s breath, Bakura’s eyes fluttered shut and his mind drifted off to sleep. 

He lost touch with time. Bakura lay boneless on top of Kek’s body. The warm water lapped at his skin, and Kek’s fingers continued to scroll along Bakura’s chest and stomach. The calmness sank into Bakura’s nerves, unwinding him in a way he’d never felt before. Safe. He felt safe, and before he knew it, Kek kissed the nape of his neck and whispered it was time to get out of the water, but Bakura never wanted to leave. 

“Five more minutes,” Bakura sighed as he tilted his neck so Kek had more surface area to kiss. 

“We can sleep on the couch.” Kek nipped Bakura’s ear, and then sucked on the lobe a little.

Bakura shifted, his slow, sleepy mind coming to the more Kek kissed him. As he shifted, he felt Kek’s erection nudging his ass and Bakura twisted some more so that the cleft of his ass teased Kek’s hard cock. 

Kek’s entire body tensed. A muffled _ngggh_ caught in his throat. Kek sat up and grabbed Bakura’s shoulders. He pressed his forehead between Bakura’s shoulder blades, panting. Bakura froze, unsure about how to interpret Kek’s reaction. 

“I… won’t do that again, if you don't want-”

“What? No, don’t- I-” his fingers sank into Bakura’s shoulders. “It caught me off guard, but…”

Bakura turned and made sure he _didn’t_ brush against Kek’s cock that time. He stared at Kek’s face. He was flushed and sweating at the temples, but Bakura wasn’t sure if it was from the contact or the bath. 

“C-can I?” Kek asked.

“Sure,” Bakura answered. 

He had no clue what Kek was asking to do, but he wanted to give Kek permission to do it regardless. Kek continued to pant. He licked his lips and reached beneath the water and towards Bakura. 

Even watching, Bakura wasn’t sure what to expect until the graze of Kek’s fingertips dragged up Bakura’s hard shaft. Bakura closed his eyes, opened his mouth in a silent scream, and gripped the porcelain edges of the tub behind Kek’s back. Kek thumbed around Bakura’s head, then skimmed back down Bakura’s length. 

Kek grunted and pulled his hand away. Bakura couldn’t move for a moment and waited for three breaths before opening his eyes to look at Kek. His roommate looked dazed, eyes staring at the water and the wavy images of their bodies below the surface. Again, Bakura waited for Kek to do something else. 

Kek pulled his hand out the water and stared at his palm. The fingers from his opposite hand roamed over the little wrinkles in his skin from soaking in the bath for too long. Bakura sighed and deflated a little. He understood. It was like the other night on the couch when all Bakura could do was rub Kek’s hip. 

“So…” Bakura tried to speak. His voice sounded like rust. “It’s okay?”

Kek looked up at him. He looked a little confused. 

“Not my dick.” A nervous laugh escaped from Bakura. He felt possessed- possessed by someone who laughed when they were nervous- someone who wanted to be kissed. “I meant, uh, grinding?”

Kek nodded his head, but all the while his fingers worked faster against his wrinkled palm. Bakura took both of Kek’s hands into his own and brought them to his lips. He kissed the four knuckles on Kek’s left and, and then the knuckles on his right hand. 

“Come on,” Bakura said once he finished. “Let’s get out of the tub. We’re getting all wrinkly.” 

“Yeah, sorry.” 

Bakura stepped out first, and handed Kek the extra towel. They dried off, slipped into boxers, and then wandered to the front of the apartment.

“Want a snack?”

“Sure.” Bakura was more tired than hungry, but fuck, he wasn’t going to say no to some of Tomoko’s homemade dorayaki. 

They ate at the kitchen table, needed some physical space from each other. Not because they didn’t want to be close, but rather because they _yearned_ to be close, and at the same time, it was too good to be real. The more Bakura checked for cracks in the plaster and blemishes in the shoddy paint job, the fewer flaws he seemed to find. Everything looked perfect to him, exactly how he wanted it to be, who cared if the couch was ugly when it felt like heaven against his spine, and Kek’s arms around him felt like being embraced by the sun itself. 

“So when’s your first day at the pet store?” Bakura asked in order to break the silence. 

“Monday.” 

“That sucks. I’m off Monday.” He’d been hoping to just hang out. He grinned to hide his disappointment. “Which means I’m stuck cooking dinner.” 

“You’re off tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah.” Bakura nodded. 

“We could, uh, go somewhere?” Kek stumbled through the offer. “I won’t get paid for a while, but we could…” Kek struggled for ideas.

“We can figure out what to do in the morning.” Bakura stood up. “For now, I'm ready to pass out.” 

“Yeah, okay, I'm…” Kek looked around for options. “I'm going to read for a bit. Erm, in the bedroom. It has more light.”

“Yeah, sure.” Bakura said with a wave of his hand as if he didn't care, but his throat tightened.

He curled up on the sofa alone, and stared at the bedroom light highlighting the hallway ceiling. Bakura kept his eyes open for a long time, not wanting to admit that he was waiting for Kek to come to bed.

In the end fatigue won out, and Bakura closed his eyes. As his mind see-sawed between sleep and awake, he replayed the bath in his mind. The soothing, warm water, the pressure of Kek beneath him, the way Kek’s fingers danced on Bakura's skin. His imagination went wild, picturing Kek biting Bakura’s neck, or twisting his nipples, or even touching his cock again.

Bakura tossed and turned. Aroused from his fantasies, exhausted, alone. Bakura smacked his head against the couch cushions. The light from the bedroom snapped off and Bakura froze. He pretended to sleep even when Kek spoke his name. Kek crawled over Bakura, fighting his way onto the couch. Bakura made it a little more difficult than he had to out of spite, but when Kek wrapped his arms around Bakura's torso, Bakura couldn't help but sigh and dissolve into Kek's hold.

***

In the morning Bakura woke up, dressed, and snuck out of the apartment with his duel disk. He hadn't played for money in a while, had been too busy, but he thought it'd be a good way to score some date money with which to surprise Kek. He realized, too late, that there wasn’t a duel café in the smaller town. Committed to his plan, Bakura ended up taking the bus to Domino in order to play. 

At the end of three games, Bakura had 10,000 yen in his pocket and a smirk on his face. He thought about what they could do with the money. Definitely go out to eat somewhere, maybe go back to the arcade or see if there was a smaller one in their own town, or maybe there was something Kek wanted to buy. What else was there to do? Bakura realized he didn’t really have a clue, and regretted never letting Ryou actually hang out with his friends because the experience would have been helpful now that Bakura wanted to do something. 

Bakura reached their apartment and opened the door. “Hey, Kek, I-”

He had to duck as a plate whizzed past his head. It shattered against the wall, the fragments tumbling to the carpet below. 

“Oi! The plate is not a frisbee. What the fuck are you doing?” Bakura shouted. 

“Where have you been?” Kek snarled from the kitchen. He grabbed another plate and tossed it. 

Bakura jumped out of the way. He threw his duel disk onto the couch and marched towards the kitchen. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? We don’t have enough dishes for you to throw them in a tantrum!”

“Where were you!”

“Dueling!” Bakura pointed to the duel disk on the sofa. “Where else would I fucking be?”

“I don’t fucking know? Why didn’t you leave a note?”

“A what?” Bakura stopped, scowling. 

“A note! To tell me where you went!”

“Why?” Bakura dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

“So I know you’re okay!”

Bakura opened his mouth to shout again, but stopped. “I didn’t think about it.” 

“Of course you didn’t!” Kek slammed his palms onto the counter. “You don’t think! You just act! And you never think about how others feel-”

“Fuck you!” Bakura pulled the wad of money out of his pants pocket and threw the bills on the floor. Then he stormed off to the bedroom. 

It was the only place Bakura could think to go. He plopped down in the middle of the floor, sat cross-legged, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at the iron mark in the carpet. Bakura felt… awful. He felt awful because he’d made Kek worry when he hadn’t meant to. They needed cellphones, but that was far down their list of things they needed. Hell, they needed pen and paper if he was going to write a fucking note, not that Bakura would have thought of it. He’d never _had_ anyone worry about him- not since he was a child. Bakura felt a presence hanging back in the doorway. He hunched a little deeper into himself, as if that could make him disappear. 

“Hey,” Kek said. He sounded dejected. 

Bakura held his breath and clenched his teeth. 

“Why the money?” 

Bakura pushed out his held breath and sucked in another so he could yell out his answer, but instead his chest seized up. A choked noise stuck in Bakura’s throat, and he couldn’t swallow away the lump he felt. 

“I… wanted-” Bakura’s breath stuttered in his chest. Why were his eyes burning? Why was he sniffing? Why was his face wet? “-to take you somewhere!” He managed to yell out the end like he wanted to.

Kek was also sniffing. Bakura glanced over his shoulder just enough to see him wiping at his eyes, and Bakura hated seeing Kek cry, but he wasn’t going to comfort him. Not this time. Not this time. He wasn’t going to comfort him because his own chest hurt. 

“I woke up alone.” Kek continued to sniff. 

“I went to sleep alone,” Bakura hissed over his shoulder. 

“I needed to think.” 

Bakura snorted, hanging his head low. His white hair tumbled down, almost reaching his lap.

“I looked for you when I woke up. In the apartment. Outside. You were… gone.” The sniffs became sobs. “I thought you _left_.” 

“Why would I _leave_?” 

“I don’t know!” Kek growled. “All I know is the longer you were gone the more I panicked, and then I started to get pissed! And I _told_ myself to calm down- I knew I couldn’t go back to-” Kek voice cracked. “I don’t want to be like I was. Bakura, I don’t want to, but I was aiming for your head.”

“I know,” Bakura said. He was drained. A long silence tainted the air between them. 

“I guess… I should pack.”

“What?” Bakura threw his head up. 

“You… won’t hurt Ifrit out of spite, will you? Give him to Granny. It's not his fault I threw the plate.”

Bakura lunged into Kek’s lap, he locked his arms around Kek’s upper body and buried his face against his chest. 

“Bakura?”

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“I don’t know?”

“Nowhere!” Bakura punched Kek’s shoulder with the flat of his fist. Not hard, just enough to punctuate his statement. 

“But I-”

“Threw a plate! Big fucking whoop! Like I care!”

“But I got angry and wanted to _hurt_ you!” Kek screamed. “Don’t you get it?” 

“You burnt me alive with Ra and sent me to the Shadow Realm! Why do I give a fuck about a plate!” 

“That was _before_!” Kek yelled back. “Before I cared! Before I wanted to be human! Before I knew better!” 

“It was bound to happen sooner or later!”

“That I fucked up?” Kek asked. 

“Yes.” Bakura said the word in a loud voice, but it wasn’t a scream. “You can’t just turn off every bad habit or flaw.” Bakura grabbed Kek’s hand and shoved it to one of the cigarette burns pock-marking the carpet, rubbing their fingers over the burnt spot. “Remember? The flaws make things real. That goes for us.” 

“I…” Kek’s eyes darted to both the burnt carpet, and their joined hands. “I’m sorry I threw our plates at your head.”

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” Bakura muttered. “I thought I’d surprise you, but I didn’t think-”

Kek shoved Bakura onto the carpet. Bakura’s head hit the floor and he opened his mouth to shout again, but Kek’s lips slammed against his own. Bakura groaned and fisted Kek’s hair. He wrapped his legs around Kek’s waist as if he was still afraid Kek would try to leave. Their lips smacked as they attacked each other’s mouths. Kek kept his hands pressing down on Bakura’s chest. The weight of his hands, and the weight of his body felt wonderful against Bakura. He squeezed his legs, feeling the shape of Kek’s hips through his jeans. 

“So… you really want me to stay?” Kek asked between panting breaths and sloppy kisses. 

“I sure as fuck don’t want to take _myself_ out this afternoon.” 

“You... still want to go out?” Kek blinked at Bakura in wonder. 

Bakura reached up and stroked the side of Kek’s face. “Why the fuck not? We can pick up plates on the way home.” 

“I’m so stupid.” Kek groaned and used Bakura’s chest as a pillow. “I can’t believe I threw our only plates at you.” 

“It’s okay.” Bakura lowered his legs. He allowed his fingers to comb through Kek’s array of spikes. “You have to clean up the mess, though.” 

“Guess that’s fair.” 

Bakura winced. “And I guess buy a vacuum cleaner with your first paycheck. Shit, we don’t even own a broom. Guess we’re buying that when we get the plates.” 

“Maybe we should just skip the date and-”

“No fucking way.” Bakura pushed them both up so they could sit and look at each other. He held Kek’s shoulders with both of his hands. “Have you ever seen a movie?”

Kek shook his head no.

“We’ll go to the movies, and you can pick out what we watch. Then we’ll get lunch, and we’ll use whatever’s left for apartment stuff, but we’re doing _something fun_ today.” Bakura grinned, unable to help himself as he bumped his nose against Kek’s. “You got a job, remember? We’re celebrating.” 

“Bakura…” Kek sighed and twisted his fingers around the tips of Bakura’s hair. “I want to kiss you again.” 

“Won’t hear me objecting.” Bakura pulled back a little and lidded his eyes. 

Kek reached out, this time gently. He took his time, matching their lips up just so. The feeling of their mouths brushing together felt so good that Bakura would have worried it wasn’t possible if they weren’t sitting on the floor of a near-empty room in their crappy little apartment after their first fight. But the apartment was real, the kisses were real, _they_ were real, and Bakura had never been happier than he was in that precise moment. 


	11. Chapter 11

“I did not understand that movie at all.” Kek shook his head.

“Sometimes it's better not to think about continuity. It'll hurt you-” Bakura pressed a fist against his sternum. “Right in your heart.”

“Fucking dork.” Kek shook his head, but then they both laughed. 

They hadn't been holding hands like usual. Bakura had a feeling that Kek was holding back because of their earlier argument. Bakura told himself he didn't care. They weren't five and didn't need to lead each other around, but Bakura's eyes kept flitting downward to Kek's hand as they walked down the street.

“So? Hungry?” Bakura asked.

“Yeah, what do you want?”

“Anything except ramen.” Bakura grinned.

“I've never tried okonomiyaki,” Kek said.

“Okay. There's a place in town not too far from the high school. Let's go.” Bakura reached out, grabbed Kek’s hand, and pulled him down the street.

He felt Kek squeezing their joined hands, and his mouth watered. For some reason, he couldn't stop thinking about the make up kisses they'd had after the fight. Bakura's entire body heated up, and his cock tried to grow down his right pant leg. Bakura distracted himself by staring at the cracks in the sidewalk so he could calm down.

They drank tea while they waited for their food. Bakura kept twisting his napkin into a knot. Meanwhile, Kek drew imaginary pictures on the table surface. 

“Once we get basics, we can buy cell phones. Then, if I forget to leave a note, you can text me.”

“And after that we can get a TV and some games,” Kek added.

“With both of us working, it'll be a lot easier,” Bakura said.

“Yeah.”

They fell into an awkward silence, only interrupted when their food came out. They used their lunch as an excuse not to talk anymore.

Bakura stared at everything other than Kek. It's not that he wasn't having fun; it's that he couldn't stop thinking. If his gaze happen to land on Kek's face- it went straight to Kek's mouth, and then the only thing Bakura could think about was kissing. Same with Kek's shoulders, or chest, or even his hands. Bakura was consumed with fantasies of touching, kissing, clawing at whatever he could reach. It made enjoying a date impossible.

“This is good,” Kek muttered.

“Yeah, but there's so much. I think I'm going to take the rest home,” Bakura said as an excuse to not have to force himself to eat when his stomach was writhing. 

“Do you feel okay?” Kek asked.

“I think I'm still beat from work yesterday.”

“Want to go home and nap before we go shopping?” He said it innocently enough, but there was a certain gleam in Kek's eyes that suggested that he was as distracted as Bakura.

“Sounds like a great plan.” Bakura smirked.

They rushed home as if they knew exactly what they were going to do; however, once inside, they only sat on the couch next to each other and started at their hands on their knees.

“Bakura.” Kek's voice sounded gruff.

“Hmm?” Bakura hummed. He was still thinking of some sort of signal he could give to try and get things going.

“I know you want to take a nap.”

“Yeah.” 

“But first-” Kek swallowed.

Bakura looked up, glancing over at him. He could feel the tension in the air between them, but didn't know what to _do_ about it.

“I want to kiss you again.” 

Bakura's heart skipped a beat. He raised his hand and placed it on Kek's shoulder. Kek cupped Bakura's opposite cheek. Bakura's eyes dropped lower and he parted his lips, inviting Kek to lean forward.

Kek did so hesitantly. They both jerked when their lips touched, as if they'd been shocked. When they kissed the second time, it was careful and deliberate.

Bakura leaned backwards, pulling Kek with him until they lay stacked on the sofa. Sinking into the soft, overstuffed cushions helped Bakura to relax. He exhaled through his nostrils and dabbed his tongue against Kek's bottom lip.

Kek opened his mouth, slipping his tongue against Bakura's. Bakura moaned but the kiss muffled the sound of it. Then Kek rolled his hips downward. Bakura arched up. He parted his legs so Kek could rest between them and grabbed Kek's ass.

Kek grunted when Bakura's hand squeezed him, and pushed down a second time. Bakura slipped his other hand beneath Kek's t-shirt, wanting to knead his back muscles, but when he felt the dry, cracked scars beneath his fingertips, Bakura pulled away.

“Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Kek muttered before sucking Bakura's bottom lip. “Don't stop.” 

Bakura ran his palm up Kek's back, and squeezed his ass again, and hitched up into Kek's groin. His entire body burned. His cock ached because he was so hard, and Bakura felt like he'd die if he didn't get more friction against his shaft.

“Kek,” Bakura gasped, hitching up again. “Please!” 

“Please what?”

Had it been Malik asking the question, Bakura knew it'd be an attempt to hear Bakura beg more, an attempt to humble Bakura and give himself an ego boost, but since it was Kek, Bakura was convinced that he honestly didn't know what to do next. 

“Move!” He held Kek's ass and bucked against the bulge in Kek's pants.

“Oh gods,” Kek moaned. “O-okay.”

He bit into Bakura's throat and thrust against him. Bakura growled and turned his head so Kek could bite his neck again. He kept pressing his hand deeper against Kek’s ass, bucking up as Kek thrust down. Bakura called out each time they ground together. The aching pressure in his pants became a sharp, intense _need_. Each time their bodies met, Bakura got _so close, so close, sooo damn close_ to coming, but the thickness of their jeans prevented that extra bit of sensation Bakura needed to go over the edge. 

He opened his eyes, looking up at Kek as Kek bowed his back and pressed harder to increase the friction between them. Kek’s lavender stare stayed trained on Bakura’s face. His mouth was slack as he gasped and groaned. His cheeks were too dark for a proper blush, but his complexion had a flushed glow. Bakura stared right at Kek, narrowing his eyes and allowing an enticing smirk to tease the corner of his mouth. 

“Touch me.” 

Kek gasped and slowed his thrusts to calmer, deeper, rolls of his hips. 

“Touch me,” Bakura repeated. He knew Kek liked to hear Bakura tell him what to do, in the same way he wanted Bakura to ask to cuddle when they read. “I want your hand down my pants right now.” 

Kek gasped again. He pressed their lips together as he fumbled for Bakura’s fly. Kek fought his way into Bakura’s boxers and grabbed his cock. Bakura moaned through their kisses, thrusting into Kek's closed first.

The tension between them had mounted since the hostel and only their own fear of emotion and anything _good_ kept them from acting on it sooner, but Bakura couldn't take it anymore. Kek's lips felt too good against Bakura's lips, Kek's ass felt too good each time Bakura squeezed it, Kek's hot palm felt too good wrapped around Bakura's cock. He needed this. He needed this. Oh gods he needed this, and he needed it right that moment. He hiked into Kek's palm again and again and again until his eyes slammed shut and little lights flashed behind his closed lids as he came on his own belly. Bakura's breath was ragged by the time he sank back onto the sofa cushions.

“D-did you like it? Did I do okay? Was it good? O-or-” 

Bakura dragged Kek down to kiss him again, tugging at the waist of Kek's pants.

“S’good.” Bakura slurred his words between kisses. “Do you want me to touch you back?” 

Kek's answer was a whimper and an eager nod. Bakura popped the button of Kek's jeans loose and pulled down the zipper. Kek jerked both pants and boxers to his thighs. Bakura smoothed the pad of his thumb around Kek's cockhead, amazed at how hot the flesh felt. Obsessed with revenge his entire life, Bakura never had the chance to try sex or even think about his preferences, so Bakura took his time touching Kek, enjoying his body, caressing Kek's shaft, _really enjoying_ the weight and thickness of Kek’s cock in his hand. 

Kek whined, wanting more than light touches. Bakura grinned at Kek's needy expression before clenching both fists around Kek's cock and jerking up and down.

“ _Nnngh_!” Kek grunted as he pushed his hips from front to back in order to get the most out of Bakura's pumping fists.

Kek's face twisted into an adorable knot of concentration was he lost himself to each flick of Bakura's wrist. He started to growl, and the deep, savage noises drove Bakura to move faster. He switched back to one hand so he could put more effort into the speed of his strokes.

“Fuck!” Kek screamed, guttural the first time, but then his pitch raised with each additional curse. “Fuck! Fuck! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh gods!”

Bakura allowed Kek's come to splash onto his shirt, already a mess from his own orgasm. Bakura figured it was easier to wash a shirt than to apologize to an angry raccoon dog spirit for soiling the couch, so Bakura was careful not to let any mess spill onto the cushions.

“Sleepy.” Kek collapsed onto Bakura's chest and nuzzled against his throat.

“Let me wash up, and then we can take a nap.” Bakura stroked Kek's hair with his left hand.

Kek sighed, but rolled off of Bakura. They both wiped off and changed before crashing back to the couch in a tangled heap. 

“Are we real boyfriends now?” Kek asked with a frown.

Bakura snorted. “We sorta have been from the beginning, haven't we?” 

“Was that intentional?”

“No.” Bakura shook his head against Kek's chest. “But I don't regret how things turned out.” 

“And you're really not upset about the plates?”

“I was upset that you didn't come to bed last night. I'm not stupid. You were avoiding me.”

“It's scary. This is scary.” Kek hid his face between Bakura's batwings.

“You think I don't know that?” Bakura scowled against Kek's chest. “Look, if we're going too fast, just say something.” 

“I couldn't stand it anymore.” Kek gnashed his teeth together. “It's not too fast, is just… so strange. These feelings- I don't understand all of them.” 

“Yeah, I'm not much better off. Even before the Ring, I was a mess.”

“Figures I end up with the one person in the world that might be more emotionally stunted than me.” 

“Life’s a bitch.” Bakura laughed. The statement made Kek relax. He started combing his fingers through the tangles in Bakura’s hair. Bakura felt his eyes close. “Don’t stop.” 

“I won’t. I don’t want to either,” Kek said. 

Bakura fell into a hard sleep. The kind of sleep he never could enjoy as the Thief King because there was never anywhere safe enough _to_ sleep. The only thing that woke him was his bladder screaming for attention. Bakura untangled himself from Kek’s arms and rolled off of the couch, stumbling to the restroom while rubbing grit out of his eyes. The next thing he did was find the okonomiyaki he’d brought home and finish it off. He saved a shrimp from the top and set it on the arm of the couch, watching as a little hand appeared from the folds of the couch to snatch the piece of seafood and drag it down into the couch. 

“You feeding him now?” Kek asked, one eye opened. 

“More like appeasing him. I don’t want to be bitten.” 

“Mukhfi wouldn’t bite you unless you deserved it.” 

“Never hurts to leave an offering.” Bakura snorted. “Wake your lazy ass up. We need plates.” 

“Yeah.” Kek scratched the back of his wild hair. “Okay, I’m up.” 

They walked to the thrift store. The manager smiled and waved at Bakura. He acknowledged the gesture, but hated it because he was fairly sure she thought of him as _that poor towel kid_. They bought plates and two pillow cases. At the discount store, they bought two pillows and a broom. Bakura also snuck a bottle of lotion into the basket when Kek wasn’t looking. 

When they got home, Kek swept as much glass out of the carpet as he could manage and took out the trash while Bakura added pillows to the couch and tossed the rolled up towels into the wash with the rest of their clothes and started the load, checking to make sure that they had enough detergent to get them through until his next pay day. He hid the lotion beneath his pillow. 

“I’m hungry,” Kek said when he was back inside the apartment. 

“What do you want? I’ll cook.” 

“Chocolate cake.” Kek laughed. 

“I’ll get flour next time we go grocery shopping.”

“There’s dorayaki still.”

“Yeah, well it’ll be gone by the time we make it back to the store.” Bakura winked as he rummaged in the fridge. 

They ended up eating agedashi tofu. Kek sang to Ifrit at the table while Bakura finished dinner. He tried not to smile as he topped the tofu with grated daikon and ginger, but it was hard not to smile while Kek sang old Egyptian lullabies to a fish. He recognized a few of the melodies from his own childhood. Memories rose up from Bakura’s damaged memory like ghosts rising up from the ashes of a burnt village. Bakura wiped a tear away from his cheek, but made sure his voice was steady when he spoke.

“Did Ishizu sing those to Malik?”

“No…” Kek sighed. “Rishid. I wish I didn’t have the memories. They bother me.”

“Still want baldy dead?” Bakura set a bowl in front of Kek.

“Not really. That’s what bothers me.” Kek swirled his spoon into the dashi. 

“My mother sang that last one. It was probably passed down all the way from the times of the first tomb keepers,” Bakura offered the information as a way to distract Kek from his own complicated past. 

“Your mother? What was she like? Was she like Tomoko?”

“She liked to sing, tell stories…” Bakura stared at his food as more flashes came to him. Each fractured memory was quick, and hot, and painful like the flicker of a flame. “She loved to cook. Oh fuck.” Bakura hid his face in the crook of his arm pressed against the table. He didn’t want to feel this. He didn’t want to think that he somehow grew up like her even a little bit. After Zorc… he wasn’t good enough to share her hobbies. 

He felt kisses pressed against the back of his head, and a hand smooth down his hair. Bakura sniffed. He wasn’t really crying, not really. His eyes were glassy and he was sniffling a touch, but that wasn’t quite crying. He popped his head back up and faked as much composure as he could. 

“Don’t pet me. Eat. It’s no good cold.” 

“I won’t sing that one anymore.” Kek used his thumb to smudge away the half tear welling up in the corner of Bakura’s eye. 

“I can’t remember her name.” Bakura turned away. “The spell ate up their names like the gold ate up their bodies. Don’t forget her song. Sing it.” 

“This is good.” Kek started eating, sensing that Bakura wanted to talk about anything else.

“Of course. _I_ made it.” Bakura started eating from his own dish. 

“I bet I could kick your ass in checkers if we played.”

“I’m not taking that bet, but since it won’t be a Shadow Game I’ll play.”

“Could you imagine how excessive a Shadow Checker Game would be?”

“Might be fun. You could move the people across the board against monsters.”

“Pffff, have you done it?”

“Prefered Monster World.”

“What’s that?”

“A tabletop RPG. Kinda expensive to start, though, and we’d need a few more people.” 

“That sounds suspiciously like socialising. Let’s stick to checkers.” Kek cleared away their dishes and rinsed them out before putting them into the dishwasher.

“Agreed. Get the board and we’ll play.” 

They played a few games. When it started to get late, Bakura toyed with the ends of his hair. 

“I could read,” Kek offered as he put up the checkerboard. 

“Actually, I had another idea.”

“Yeah? What are we going to do?” 

Bakura didn’t want to explain, so he walked over to the couch and pulled the blanket off of it. He lay the blanket down on the floor and grabbed the 100 yen bottle of lotion he’d bought. Bakura knelt on the blanket, staring at the lotion to avoid looking at Kek. 

“Earlier I noticed… your back. Um, probably itches, right? My chest does sometimes.” Bakura scratched beneath his shirt as if to demonstrate his point. 

The scars on his hand and shoulder hurt from time to time, especially the one on his hand. That hadn’t been a clean stab with a knife like his arm. That had been a spire, and what the fuck was he thinking when he’d done that to his host? Bakura _knew_ what he’d been thinking at the time, but hindsight- being omniscient- made him realize what a fucking bitch he’d been. 

“Are you offering a backrub?” Kek grinned. 

“I expect a scalp massage in return,” Bakura snapped.

“Deal.” Kek raised his shirt up over his head. 

Bakura’s eyes dilated as he watched Kek strip down to his boxers. They’d broken the worst of the sexual tension between them earlier, but that made staring at Kek’s broad chest no less pleasurable. Bakura decided to toss his own pants so he could be more comfortable. He straddled Kek’s ass and squirted a blob of lotion onto the center of Kek’s back.

“That’s cold, asshole! Why didn’t you warm it up in your hands first?”

“Hell, I don’t know what I’m doing.” Bakura laughed as he started to smear the cream across Kek’s skin. “Was Malik’s back this bad? The scars didn’t look so cracked when he showed them to the Pharaoh.” 

“Malik had a strict regimen.” Kek shrugged although it was awkward while he lay on his stomach. “It kept his skin in better condition.” 

“You should have said something,” Bakura scolded. “Are there specific things we need to buy? Write a list.”

“Fuck it. Some of that shit’s expensive.”

“I don’t give a fuck. If you need it-”

“That wimp needed it. I’m fine.”

“Kek, your entire back is cracking. That can’t feel good.”

“Who cares?” Kek growled. “I _like_ pain.” 

“Mmm-hmmm, me too.” Bakura glared at Kek’s cracked and peeling scars. “I also know that when we say that, it’s bullshit on a fundamental level and you’d rather _not_ have to deal with it.” 

“This feels good,” Kek said in a softer voice, not the angry growl he had a moment before. 

Bakura sighed. “Okay, we’ll try this for awhile, but after you start getting paid, consider buying what you _need_.” Bakura changed his tone, trying to bring back the old, self-serving tone that used to be so easy for him to use. “I mean, it’ll benefit me as well since I’m stuck with all my host’s old scars.” 

“Bet _you_ gave him every single one of those.” Kek snickered. 

“You could make some money off of that bet.” Bakura let the conversation drop as he focused on kneading Kek’s back.

Kek’s dry skin drank up the cream after only a few minutes. Bakura used more and rubbed his palms together in order to warm it before he applied it to Kek’s scars. 

“Thanks,” Kek said, noticing that Bakura warmed the lotion first. “That feels good.”

“I’m glad,” Bakura purred. 

“It’s making me hard, though.” 

“Do you want me to stop?”

Kek thought about it for a moment. “You wanted a scalp massage, right?” 

Bakura nodded and moved off of Kek so they could switch places. He lay his head in Kek’s lap and allowed Kek’s fingers to circle through his hair. 

“Gods, that feels good.” Bakura exhaled. “I might fall asleep.”

“Go ahead.”

That’s not what Bakura wanted to do. He wanted to turn around, crawl into Kek’s lap, and start kissing him again, but Kek’s fingers felt like magic against his scalp, and he ended up falling asleep despite his desires. He felt his body shift as Kek lifted him up and carried him to the couch. Kek spooned against him, tucking the blanket around them. Bakura sighed, he tried to mutter something appreciative, but couldn’t remember what he was saying in his more-asleep-than-awake state. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike Only Human, this was pre-written, so it gets updated on time (huzah). 
> 
> And I'm almost 3k into the next Only Human update, so over halfway done.

Bakura woke up to kisses against his neck. He moaned, and arched into the pleasure of them. Bakura stretched his arms up, grabbing for Kek. Kek pulled away before Bakura could drag him closer.

“Don’t stop,” Bakura murmured. 

“I have to go to work. Wish me luck.”

“Stay home and kiss my neck more.” Bakura reached out again. 

“I’m flattered that you’re that into it, but I’m going to work now.”

“Did you eat breakfast?” Bakura rubbed his eyes, pushing himself to sitting. “It’s too fucking early to work.” 

“I ate. Don’t worry.” Kek kissed Bakura’s forehead. 

“Good luck. If a customer pisses you off and you want to snap their neck, just walk out and quit, okay?”

“Bakura!” Kek shouted. “I’m already stressed! Why’d you have to say that!”

“So you know that it’s okay to quit if it’s too overwhelming. Don’t put up with bullshit because you think we need the money.” Bakura stood up. “I don’t think it’ll come to that. I just wanted you to _know_.” 

“You’re stupid.” Kek stole a quick kiss against Bakura’s lips before ditching out the door. 

Bakura snorted, dropped back into the couch, wrapped the blanket around him like a cocoon, and slept for three more hours. Once awake, Bakura paced the apartment for something to do. He’d never had a day off by himself before, and they didn’t have video games or internet to use as a distraction. Bakura tried to read one of Kek’s library books, but he prefered comics and manga to literary novels, so he tossed the book on top of the shelf and gave up. 

Bakura settled on playing solitaire with their deck of cards. He thought of going to town and hustling a game or two of Duel Monsters, but Monday mornings were the worst to make money because everyone was at school or work. As the solitaire games grew old, Bakura found himself daydreaming about Kek. 

Bakura bit his lower lip, wondering what getting fucked felt like. He imagined Kek between his legs, thrusting instead of grinding, biting Bakura’s neck and scratching down Bakura’s shoulder blades. Bakura adjusted his cock in his jeans, but the quick touch made him want more. 

Bakura dropped his cards and marched to the shower. Turning on the water, he waited for the bathroom to fill with steam and he dropped his shirt and boxers to the floor. Bakura tied his hair into a bun before stepping beneath the jet. He ran his wet hands up and down his body for a minute before teasing lower and massaging his balls. Bakura’s breath hitched in anticipation as he worked himself up. 

Closing his eyes, Bakura imagine Kek in the bathtub, copper skin dappled with flecks of water and flushed with the heat. Bakura’s fingers toyed with his shaft and Bakura sighed. He remembered that moment in the tub when Kek touched his cock, imagined that his hand was Kek’s as he ran his fingers up and down the shaft of his member. 

When he couldn’t stand it anymore, Bakura fully grabbed himself. He moaned and pulled upward. Heat swelled in Bakura’s lower stomach as he stroked himself. The water helped his hand slide along his cock. He pressed against the shower wall, but his feet slipped against the wet tiles. Bakura eased down to the floor. It was a cramped fit. The shower was meant for a quick rinse only, but Bakura propped his feet against the opposite wall and continued to jerk on his dick. Bakura’s breathing grew rough. His free hand pressed against the tiled floor to give himself more leverage to hitch his hips.

Bakura moaned again. He was twitching in his own palm, precum leaking from his tip. He wanted more. _More_. More than just his own hand tugging his cock. He wanted Kek’s breath against his cheeks and his teeth against Bakura’s neck. He wanted to be impaled, over and over, until his body gave out. Bakura’s toes curled against the tiles as he lifted his ass. Driven by his fantasies, he held his breath and whined as his orgasm built within him. Then, tensing, his entire body shuddered as he came. 

Bakura’s ass crashed to the tile with a wet smack. He leaned against the wall and caught his breath. His fingers and toes still tingled from his orgasm. He didn’t remember jerking off being quite so nice in Egypt, but then again, his greatest fantasies in his last life had been vengeance instead of honey-haired Egyptian boys. Exhaling, Bakura pushed himself up on wobbly legs. 

The only problem with fantasies about honey-haired Egyptian boys was that he couldn’t shake the urge to nuzzle against Kek’s chest. Bakura smacked the back of his head a few times against the shower wall, as if he could knock the desire out of his head. It didn’t work, so Bakura simply suffered as he turned off the shower and found clean clothes. 

It was then he realized he’d started laundry the day before but never put the clothes into the dryer. Bakura swore and restarted the load. While in the kitchen, he decided to make lunch for when Kek came home. Kek flew into the apartment half an hour later.

“They let me feed all the animals!” Kek called through the living room so Bakura could hear him in the kitchen. 

Bakura laughed, ladling rice porridge into two bowls. 

“Don’t make fun of me. It was amazing.”

“I’m not. It’s…” Bakura shook his head at himself, but finished the sentence anyway. “It’s cute to see you excited.” 

“Shut up,” Kek snapped, but Bakura could tell it was because he was flustered. 

Bakura thought his shower would calm him down and want to touch Kek _less_ when he came home, but Bakura’s plan had somehow backfired because he swore he wanted to touch him _more_ than he had before. Then again, it might have been the way Kek’s face lit up as he spooned food into his mouth and rambled about turtles and parakeets. Bakura had to force himself to pay attention and eat instead of lunging across the table and kissing him. 

“So what did you do all day?” Kek asked after a rant about how rats were great animals and didn’t deserve their bad stereotypes. 

“Played solitaire.” Bakura repressed the grin that tried to spread across his mouth at the thought of how his statement was a double entendre. “Fucking laundry. I keep forgetting it.” 

Bakura threw the clothes into the dryer. He shrieked when Kek grabbed him and sat him down onto the washer machine. 

“The fuck, Kek?”

“I thought of you a lot today.” Kek leaned closer with a devilish grin and lidded eyes. 

“Did you?” Bakura returned the smirk with one of his own.

Kek answered by nibbling up the side of Bakura’s neck. A groan poured from Bakura’s mouth before he could stop it. He wrapped his legs around Kek’s waist and pulled him as close as possible. Bakura fisted Kek’s hair and pushed their mouths together. Kek rubbed circles into the small of Bakura’s back with one hand and squeezed his shoulder with the other. They kissed until they couldn’t breathe and then broke apart. 

“Want to play rummy?” Kek asked, wiping his mouth. 

No. Bakura wanted to play a game of ‘shove his hand down Kek’s pants and make him call out Bakura’s name.’ It was Bakura’s current favorite game, but he couldn’t think of any sexually charged card game puns at that moment to help him suggest they fool around, so he nodded his head and went back to the living room to play rummy instead. 

“You’re fidgety today,” Kek noticed after their game. 

“Not used to sitting at home all day alone. How did you deal with it?”

“I learned how to clean everything.” Kek shrugged. “Speaking of- I heard the dryer buzz.” 

“Yeah, I’ll get it.” Bakura loaded his arms up with dry clothes and carried them off to the bedroom to fold them. 

“Want help?”

“Either way,” Bakura said. “We also need a laundry basket.”

“It’s like a never ending list.” Kek sat down across from Bakura and folded towels. 

“We have pillows now.” Bakura shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s good.” Kek rubbed his neck. “The towels didn’t work very well.”

“Tell me about it.” Bakura stuffed all his clothes in his drawer while Kek did the same for his own clothes. They both carried the towels to the bathroom. “Hey, does the library have manga?” Bakura asked.

“I think so, want me to get some?”

“Yeah, just pick a fantasy series and bring me home the first few.”

“Fantasy? Really?”

“Sure.” Bakura shrugged. “Why?”

“Based on your deck, I would have thought horror was your favorite.”

“Ryou’s deck, mostly, and I’ve probably read every horror everything in the library already. Ryou was a fanatic.”

“He sounds cool, maybe I should have dated him.” Kek poked Bakura’s chest.

“Pffff, I can see you two getting along, actually.”

“Unlike you and Malik?” Kek raised an eyebrow. 

“Fighting with Malik was the most fun I’d had in three thousand years.” Bakura winked. “A good deal more fun than losing against the Pharaoh.”

“Yeah, I know from experience that losing to the Pharaoh isn’t much of a thrill.” Kek took Bakura’s hand as he led him down the hall and back to the living room. “But I’ll stop by the library tomorrow. I’m done with all of my books and need more.”

They sat on the couch, hands still locked together. Kek teased his fingers across Bakura’s knuckles and Bakura shivered at the light touch. 

“So what did people do three thousand years ago to keep from getting bored? You didn’t have TV last time you were in a body.”

“I stole shit from the Pharaohs and trained Diabound.” 

“Have you tried to summon him yet?”

“Of course not. I’ve been wanting to, but I’d have to go out to the woods or somewhere people wouldn’t see him.”

“Maybe our next day off?” Kek suggested.

“You’d want to go?”

“It’d give us something to do, wouldn’t it?”

“True. Sure. We’ll go.” Bakura stared at his feet. “It’ll be strange… to see Diabound after all these millennia.” 

“So you robbed tombs, what did other people do in Egypt?” Kek changed the direction of the conversation before it became too serious. 

“Drank beer, danced, worked, played games, told stories. Usual shit.” 

“Hmmm, I don’t know how to dance, so tell me a story.”

“Me? Why the fuck would I know any stories?” 

“You said your mom liked them.”

“I don’t remember any.” Bakura frowned.

“Make some up. I don’t care.” Kek’s touch travelled from Bakura’s knuckles to his wrist.

“Psh, whatever,” Bakura muttered to act like he wasn’t affected by the touch, or nervous about thinking of a story to tell. 

Bakura leaned back into the sofa and stared at the ceiling. Kek lay back with him, tracing the scars on Bakura’s chest through the fabric of his t-shirt. 

“Did you know the moon used to be bright all the time? And it never waned. It was a huge disk like the sun, and the god Khonsu held it up in the sky every night. But he challenged Thoth to game of sennett. Khonsu bet a portion of his powers against Throth’s knowledge. The game went down to the last move, but in the end Thoth won and plucked a portion of Khonsu’s light for his own crown. After that Throth became a secondary moon-god and the moon could only shine fully once a month.” 

“That’s what Khonsu gets for playing a Shadow Game,” Kek said. 

Bakura laughed. “We’re no better.” 

“Tell me another story.” 

Bakura wracked his brain for general myths. Kek probably already knew most of them, but acted interested regardless. After dinner they played checkers and twenty questions, both grew old after only two games. 

During the games, Kek kept touching Bakura. Along his wrists, up his arm, down his shoulders. Bakura’s body thrummed by the time they lay down for the night. Kek squeezed Bakura to his chest, and Bakura pressed his ass into Kek’s crotch, hoping to entice him. Kek hummed at the sensation, but didn’t buck forward in return. He didn’t want to ask for it. He didn’t. When his nudges didn’t work, Bakura gave up and closed his eyes. 

He tried to sleep, but couldn’t. He tried, and tried, and tried, but kept thinking about positions he’d like to try instead of sleeping. How they were would be interesting, on their sides, Kek behind him and thrusting into his ass while stroking him. Bakura’s breath grew quick and shallow as he thought about it. He could also lay on his back with Kek on top. That way, Bakura could look at his face as he came. Bakura didn’t want to admit how appealing that thought was to him, but above any other position, Bakura thought the most fun would be crawling into Kek’s lap in that huge fucking tub of theirs. The warm water around them, their faces close, Bakura getting to control how he bobbed and circled his hips. Bakura sighed audibly at the last fantasy. 

“Bakura?”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you asleep?”

“No.”

“I can’t sleep either.” 

“This sucks.” Bakura hid his face in his new pillow. “Maybe we need a radio.”

Or rather, maybe a radio would drown Bakura’s thoughts out of his head so he could sleep. 

“Can I touch you again?”

“Fuck yes.” The question alone was enough to make Bakura’s already hard cock jump behind his boxers. 

Bakura twisted so that he was facing Kek. He searched out Kek’s lips in the darkness. Bakura rubbed Kek’s hip again, much like he did when they first moved into the apartment, but this time there was intent behind the touch. His hand traveled along the V of Kek’s pelvis and to the center where he palmed the bulge in Kek’s boxers.

Kek whined through their kisses. He clawed at Bakura’s boxers. His hand found its way through the slot in the center and he curled his fingers around Bakura’s eager cock. 

“Gods, gods, gods,” Bakura moaned. “I _want_ this,” he hissed against Kek’s neck before biting and making Kek purr. 

“Keep biting me like that and I’ll bite you back.”

Bakura bit and bit again, harder each time. Kek yanked Bakura’s hair and bit his collarbone. Bakura called out and palmed Kek’s erection with more ferocity. 

“Wait-” Bakura shook his head so Kek would let go of his hair. 

“Are you okay? Did I make it hurt?” Kek asked. Even in the dim light of the dark living room, Bakura saw the concern in his face. 

“It’s good.” Bakura kissed him. “Let me grab something. Put the blanket on the ground.” Bakura ran off before Kek could retort and returned with the lotion. 

“I’m already turned on, Bakura. You don’t need to rub my back.”

“This isn’t for your back.” Bakura chuckled He dropped his boxers to the ground. 

“Do, um, should I-”

“Yes. Strip and sit on the blanket.” Bakura popped open the lotion’s cap and poured a good dollop into his palm, warming it up as if he were getting ready to give a massage.

Kek looked confused, but obeyed. Bakura sat in Kek’s lap and slathered his cock with the warmed lotion. 

“Oh!” Kek squealed and clutched at Bakura’s sides. “Oh, holy shit.” 

Bakura covered himself in lotion as well. He bit his bottom lip and groaned as his hand slipped across his lotion-wet dick. He gripped both their cocks and slid them together. With the lotion coating their skin, their cocks squelched his his fists gliding quickly and easily. 

“I’m going to lose my fucking mind,” Kek swore. His nails dug into Bakura’s sides. “This feels too good!”

“Want me to ease up?” Bakura asked.

“Hell no.” Kek wrapped his own hand around both their cocks. His hand was bigger, and warmer, and it felt better when he controlled the pace of their rubbing shafts. 

“Shit!” Bakura swore, mouth gaped open as he rocked in Kek’s lap. 

He flung his arms around Kek's neck and crossed them at the wrist. Bracing his forearms against Kek's shoulders, Bakura circled his hips as Kek held their cocks together. Each circle of his hips made his belly hitch. Bakura kept circling, kept hitching. Bakura lost himself in the moment and all the little ways that he felt good.

“Bakura,” Kek moaned. 

He grabbed Bakura's ass and encouraged him to bounce faster. Bakura's body heated up, every muscle flexing with errotic rapture.

“Yes… Kek… yes! I-I'm-I'm- coming!” Bakura threw back his head as his entire body spasmed.

Kek waited for Bakura to finish before pressing him onto his back. Kek scooped his own hips down then pulled them back, fast, and fierce, and wild. Bakura's cock stayed half hard from Kek’s rough, needy grinding.

“Bakura!” 

Bakura growled low in his throat, encouraging Kek's thrusts by hitching back and guiding Kek's hips. Bakura kissed Kek's shoulder, his collarbone, and then up the side of his neck. 

“That's it. Harder,” Bakura begged. “Harder! Come for me.” 

“Bakura!” 

Bakura bucked up, letting Kek's slippery cock slide up and down Bakura's belly. He added another dab of lotion to his hand, and made a fist so Kek could slip inside and thrust as Bakura stroked.

“Bakura! Bakura! Bakura! Baa-ahhh!” Kek splattered across Bakura stomach, more so than the first time.

Bakura flushed, covered in sweat, lotion, and come, but feeling a like a sex god at that moment. It was the way Kek stared at him, that made him feel like one. Bakura teased his fingers up Kek's still dripping shaft.

“How 'bout now? Think you can sleep?” 

“Sleep and have the sweetest dreams of my life.” Kek laughed and rested his forehead against Bakura's sweat-damp chest.

“Oh?” Bakura whispered in Kek's ear. “Thought you said I was bitter.” 

“You're like baker's chocolate.” Kek showered Bakura's throat with tender kisses. “You just need a little sugar added to balance you out.”

“Is that what you're doing?” Bakura titled his head back. “With these kisses? Trying to sweeten me up?” 

“ _Kekeke,_ only so I can gobble you up for dessert.” His kisses turned to nibbles.

Bakura sucked in a breath. The cracks in the ceiling couldn't help him in that moment even if he could see them in the dark room. This was _too good_ _to be real_. 

“Don't stop,” Bakura pleaded. “Don't stop. Please, be real.” 

“I'm real,” Kek whispered. He pinched Bakura's chin and forced Bakura to look at him. He gave Bakura a sad laugh. “Know how I figured it out?”

“How?” Bakura asked.

“It hurts.” Kek grabbed Bakura's hand and pressed it over his chest. “Here.” 

“Go to the doctor hurt, or-” Bakura tried to sit up, but Kek pressed him back to the floor.

“Not like that.” Kek lowered his lids and hovered his face above Bakura's. “I think I love you.” 


	13. Chapter 13

He couldn't breathe. He gasped, but the air couldn't pass into his lungs.

“Bakura?” Kek held his shoulders. His face twisted with concern. “Bakura? What's wrong?”

Bakura shook his head as if to say nothing was wrong, but his wheezing gasps called him out as a liar. Kek helped him sit up and fanned his face.

“Okay. I'm okay,” Bakura muttered as soon as he could speak again. After a few minutes, the vice on his lungs slowly released him, and he pulled burning breaths into his lungs.

“Did I hurt you somehow?” Kek held Bakura's face, trying to find the answer in Bakura's expression.

“I need water.” Bakura continued to gasp. He focused on obtaining oxygen, not Kek's question. He swallowed.

Keep shot to the kitchen and filled a glass. He brought it to Bakura, pressing it to his lips. Bakura took the glass so he could drink on his own.

“I'm okay,” Bakura repeated. He looked down into his glass. “I… wasn't expecting you to say… hearing it hit me harder than I thought it would have…” 

“So I took your breath away, did I?” Kek teased, but he looked queasy as he stared at Bakura. 

“It's been over three thousand years,” Bakura said, not catching the pun for a moment. He was that out of it. “I’d honestly given up on ever hearing that well before I died as a thief.” 

“Does it hurt your chest, too?” Kek asked, clutching at his own chest.

Bakura nodded.

“So is that really what I'm feeling? Love? I really don't know.” 

Bakura held his breath to steady it. He finished his water and set the glass aside with a shaking hand. It was too much like that first day, when they weren't sure if they were hungry or not because they were so out of touch with having their own bodies. He crawled into Kek’s lap and clung to him.

“I think so.”

“Ah! Cold!” Kek flinched.

Bakura took a moment to realize he’d pressed the mess on his stomach right against Kek’s warm skin. He chuckled, but then Kek scooped him up and started carrying him. 

“What are you doing?” Bakura yelped. 

“We should clean up.” He set Bakura down onto the bathroom tiles and ran the shower water. He glanced over his shoulder at Bakura. “You want to go first, or…”

“We could… jump in together.” Bakura stared at the steam, avoiding Kek’s purple eyes. 

“Yes.” Kek purred, tugging Bakura into the stall.

They barely fit together in the little stall. Bakura couldn't help remembering his last shower, and how he’d thought of Kek while he touched himself. The proximity caused Bakura’s face to burn as he pressed himself against the tiled wall and recovered from his panic attack. Kek ran his thumb across the top of Bakura’s cheek.

“The water hasn’t been running long enough to cause that streak of red. Could this be a blush? Red looks good on you, by the way- my favorite color.” 

“Hurry up so we can go back to sleep.” Bakura felt his cheeks burn harder from Kek’s attention. “We both have to work in the morning.”

“Me earlier than you.” Kek tilted Bakura’s chin upward and kissed him. Kek grinned. “What are you thinking right now? You have a funny look on your face.” 

Bakura was thinking that Kek was a little too smooth for his own good. 

“I’m glad I ended up with the emotional half. I don’t think Malik would be half as debonair as you.” Bakura snorted as he thought about it. “We’d turn this into a fight somehow.” 

“I do enjoy doing things better than Malik.” Kek grabbed soap and a washcloth and lathered it up before scrubbing Bakura’s arms and torso. 

Bakura rinsed his body and returned the favor. They didn’t mention what had happened in the living room, Kek’s confession or Bakura’s reaction. Instead they took turns massaging the soap onto each other’s bodies and rinsing it away. Kek turned around so Bakura could get his back.

“This doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“It’s like scratching an itch. I’d tell you to go harder, but it’s probably not good for them.”

Bakura pressed a little harder anyway because he knew Kek wanted him to. He was as careful as he could be, however. They didn’t linger in the shower. It was late and Bakura was yawning. He did run to fetch the lotion again, this time using it to run a quick layer over Kek’s back. 

“I’m going to sleep so hard the second we hit the couch,” Kek muttered. 

“Me too.” Bakura grinned, smacking Kek’s naked ass to let him know he was done with the lotion. 

They didn’t bother dressing. Instead, they cocooned themselves in their blanket and fell on the couch together. 

“Hold me,” Bakura whispered. 

He said it because he wanted it, but also because he didn’t think he could handle _I love you_. Whatever feeling it was, lingering in his chest, it felt more like _need_. The way he’d need to suck in a new breath if he’d held an old one for too long. A reflex he couldn’t control or ignore. Likewise, the last three thousand years were a long-held breath of stale air, and he was yearning to suck in the scent of cheap shampoo in Kek’s hair instead. 

Kek coiled around him, warm and strong and real despite the fact that Bakura couldn’t see the cobwebs in the corners of the room. He fell asleep, half-aware of Kek’s presence even as he slept, and wholly aware of the soft press of lips against his own before Kek slipped out the door for work that morning. Bakura stayed asleep until his own alarm wailed from the other side of the room. He yawned, and stretched, and noticed a weight on his chest.

“Mukhfi, get the hell off of me!” 

The racoon dog also yawned and stretched. Bakura was fairly sure he was being mocked. He reached out to shoo the creature away, but jerked his hand back when Mukhfi hissed.

“I can't miss work because you want to get payback by using _me_ as furniture for a change,” Bakura grumbled as he rolled on his side. Mukhfi growled as he tumbled to the ground. “Make it up to you later.” Bakura vaulted off the couch and towards the bathroom. 

While washing his face, Bakura noticed the bruises on his neck from the night before.

“That's just great.” Bakura rolled his eyes as he left to go search his dresser for a shirt with a collar.

Bakura wore his collar flipped up and braided his hair instead of keeping it in a bun, flinging the white rope over his shoulder to try and cover the little blotches that dotted the right side of his neck.

It wasn't that he cared- alright, maybe he did care if Granny saw them or not. Anyone else could fuck off though. Bakura peeked into the living room, making sure there were no angry couch spirits waiting for him, and then grabbed his shoes as he ran out the door.

At work he chopped vegetables and tried to think things out. He managed one of those things. Bakura snapped out of his thoughts when a plate with two slices of dry toast slid into his view.

“Thanks.”

“Made the coffee strong today.” 

“How'd you know?” Bakura asked.

“You haven't said a single sarcastic quip all morning long. Figured you didn't feel well.” She took her cane and shifted Bakura's collar. “Although it looks like you had a good weekend.”

Bakura fixed his collar and took a gulp of coffee-colored whisky. It was probably a mistake to drink it before eating the toast. The whiskey warmed his belly and he felt the sudden urge to talk to _someone_. He blamed the whiskey, but Granny was the only person besides Kek that he really got along with, so perhaps the coffee was the excuse he needed to talk and not the cause of it.

“We weren't really together. I told your nephew and the lady at the hostel we were, but it wasn't exactly true. We both did stupid things when we were younger, and ended up in an unsafe place because of it. We escaped together and then… just stuck around each other. We didn't have anyone else.” 

“Ah.” She shook her head as if she fully understood. 

“Do you just smile and nod at everything everyone says while staying buzzed so you don’t really have to interact with people?” Bakura raised an eyebrow at her.

“Sometimes. This still doesn't explain why you’re so quiet today.” She took a sip. “I remember going to school with carefully done hair. It never worked. One friend or another always noticed and wanted details.”

“This isn’t exactly high school.”

“Bakura, I’m old. I don’t have time for you to pussyfoot around when you clearly want to talk about it.” She sighed, pulling up a stool so she could sit down. 

“You won’t believe me, but I’m older.” Bakura took a bite of toast and went back to chopping another carrot. 

“Shut up, I’m about to impart some wise old advice that will help you get through life.” 

“By all means.” Bakura gestured with his knife as he finished his first slice of toast. “I await with bated breath for the sage to speak.”

“So things didn’t turn out like you planned. So what? Fuck life.” She raised her mug and downed it, slamming it in the prep table. “Fuck it hard. Fuck it until it has nothing left, because that’s exactly how life is going to fuck you when it gets its turn. You might as well get what you can out of it before that time comes.” 

“That-” Bakura set down his knife, resting his hands next to his own cup, “is the most practical gods-damned thing I’ve ever heard before.” 

***

It was Friday, payday, and Bakura rushed home so he could rinse off and see if Kek wanted to go grocery shopping with him. He stepped into the apartment, kicked off his shoes, and pulled off his shirt to throw in the washer machine.

“Bakura, I can explain,” Kek said as Bakura wiggled out of his shirt.

“Uh-oh.” Bakura looked up. “Did you get mad and break something again?”

“No. I’d be less worried if that’s what I’d done.”

“Then what the fuck _did_ you do?” 

Bakura dropped his shirt onto the floor and marched into the kitchen where Kek was hiding something behind the counter. The something was a regular cardboard box. It made noise, and Bakura didn’t know what was in it, but he hated it. 

“They kept escaping and wreaking the store. The manager was going to throw them out in the back alley, Bakura! I couldn't just let them be homeless!”

“Oh gods, you brought _more_ animals into the apartment?”

“I got their cage and stuff for free. I only had to buy food and vitamins and litter for their box. I have everything set up in the bedroom, but you came home before I could get them into their cage.”

“I would have noticed after my shower when I went to get clothes.” 

“Come on. These little guys are the reason I got a job, remember?”

“Yeah, because they act like monsters.”

“That means they're perfect for me.” Kek marched off to the back bedroom with his box.

Bakura followed, glaring at the rodents as Kek placed them into a large cage.

“I trust these two less than the tanuki.”

“But look at them! They’re adorable!”

“I’m going to take a shower now.” Bakura walked off. 

“Don’t be like that!” Kek shouted at him. 

Bakura waved him off and finished stripping. He tried to ignore the fact that they now had more pets, but after his shower he had to go back to the bedroom for clothes, and stared at the set up Kek made for them. The two ferrets curled up in a hammock. They stared at Bakura and he glared back at them a moment before getting dressed. He found Kek in the living room setting up some sort of cat tower. 

“You’re seriously keeping them?”

“Yup.”

“You’d better keep their box clean or I’m throwing them and all their stuff in the trash.” 

“I’ve been taking care of them for a week already, Bakura. I know what I’m doing.” 

Bakura snorted. He was pretty sure it took longer than a week to learn how to take care of something living. Not that he would know, he hadn’t even managed to take care of his host back in the day, and Ryou was practically no-maintenance. Still, Kek hadn’t killed the fish yet, so maybe Bakura wouldn’t end up having to sneak off to the woods to bury dead ferrets after three weeks. He sighed, giving up and accepting the fact that they now had ferrets. 

“You done with that? I wanted to go grocery shopping.”

“Yeah. I’ll go, and I’ll buy a vacuum tomorrow on my way home from work. Anything else we need?”

“Everything.” Bakura laughed. “A board game, maybe? I’m getting a little sick of checkers _every_ night.” 

Since both of them had jobs, they were able to splurge a little at the grocery store. They bought beef and pork, a few instant dinners for nights when they were tired from work, and no instant noodles because Bakura couldn’t stand them after learning how to make his own ramen. Bakura even bought a bottle of sake for Mukhfi. Once home, he set the bottle in the middle of the sofa and watched as two furry hands reached up from the cracks between the cushions and dragged the bottle out of sight. 

“See, Mukhfi is growing on you. You’ll like the ferrets in no time.” 

“I’m nice to Mukhfi because don’t want to be bit on the ass the next time we get carried away on the couch.” 

Kek grinned and wagged his eyebrows at Bakura as if he couldn’t wait until next time. Bakura blushed. They’d been sticking to making out and the occasional quick handjob after Bakura’s panic attack a few days ago. It was like Kek was afraid of breaking Bakura if he did anything more than light touching, but Bakura was growing restless, craving more than kisses. 

The rest of the evening was mundane. Bakura put away groceries and washed a load of laundry. Kek cooked dinner. They talked about their workdays while they ate, and afterward Kek sat on the floor and played with the ferrets while Bakura leaned back on the couch and read manga. At one point, the ferrets tried to climb up the couch, but when Mukhfi appeared and hissed at them, both ferrets scampered away and Kek chased after them. 

Bakura smirked, maybe he liked the demon-possessed couch after all. 

Kek returned a moment later and fought for half of the couch space. He wrapped his arms around Bakura and nuzzled against Bakura’s shoulder. It brought too sincere of a smile to Bakura’s face. He set the manga down and turned so he could face Kek, cupping Kek’s cheek and wasting time staring at the bright lotus-color of Kek’s eyes. 

“What?” Kek grinned when Bakura stared for too long. 

Bakura tried to explain it. He really did, but the moment his lips parted to speak, every word in his vocabulary evaporated, leaving him speechless. Unable to express himself vocally, Bakura tilted his head up, closed his eyes, and kissed Kek’s forehead. 

Kek squealed, tugging Bakura’s hair and bucking against him. Bakura sucked in a surprised breath. Kissing Kek’s forehead was the most affectionate gesture Bakura could imagine, so he didn’t understand why Kek was panting and sweating like he was close to coming. 

“Bakura!” Kek whined. “I told you that was sensitive!”

“What?” Bakura blinked. He vaguely remembered Kek getting flushed when he’d poked his forehead. “Oh. Sorry?”

“I can still feel your lips on me.” Kek groaned, hiding his face in Bakura’s hair. “Oh gods… oh fucking gods.” 

“Does it hurt?” Bakura propped himself on his elbow so he could look at Kek’s face. Kek had both eyes screwed shut and his cheeks were glowing.

“It feels like my entire soul is tingling.” 

“That sounds… nice?” Bakura frowned. 

Kek grabbed Bakura and threw them both onto the carpet. Bakura grunted when his back slammed against the floor. HIs face burned. The force that Kek used made Bakura’s heart flutter. Kek’s eyes were bright- bright- _bright_! And Bakura arched subconsciously. 

“Kissing my forehead makes it hard to hold back!”

“Don’t hold back” Bakura sighed and yearned for Kek to claw or bite or pull of their clothes. At the very least he wished Kek would kiss him. Kek was a golden cobra, and Bakura was a little white swallow, hypnotized by Kek’s intense stare. 

“You can’t _handle_ me if I don’t hold back!” Kek screamed. 

“What? That’s not true.”

“You couldn’t even breathe when I told you I loved you!” 

Bakura turned away. Then anger swept through him. In that instant, he remembered what it was like to be the Thief King. The last three thousand years had worn him brittle, but in life he’d been bold and unafraid to jump into an unknown situation. Why was this any different? Like, Granny had said, fuck life hard until there was nothing left. He returned Kek’s stare. 

“Who cares? Stop holding back!” 

“Bakura, you’re so stupid!” 

“I know I’m stupid, you idiot! I don’t care! I’m telling you it’s okay to let go!”

Kek growled through clenched teeth. Bakura decided to buck up enough to throw Kek off balance. He rolled them so that he was on top. He pinned Kek’s wrists over his head. He knew Kek was strong enough to break the hold, but Kek stared at him with a confused expression. Bakura shouted. 

“I don’t say things. I never have. Ghosts don’t talk back. Demons do nothing _but_ chatter in your brain. There was never any use for _talking_. I show things.” He pressed his lips back against Kek’s forehead.

Kek’s hand broke free of Bakura’s hold and he flipped them again. Their lips clashed, rough for only a moment before they calmed down to more sensuous kisses. Kek brushed his bottom lip against the corner of Bakura’s mouth, and Bakura dug his nails into Kek’s forearms. 

They flung their shirts over their heads. They tossed their boxers as far away from their bodies as they could throw. They grabbed each other’s biceps and kissed across each other’s shoulders. It was nothing they hadn’t done before, but there was a hum of unrestrained passion in each squeeze of their hands and each drag of their lips against each other’s sweat-salted skin. 

Bakura rubbed his calves up and down Kek’s legs. He slid his fingers around to Kek’s back and ghosted his nails down Kek’s scars. Kek bucked on reflex. They weren’t exactly working towards a climax. It was more about Bakura’s nails satisfying the deep itch of Kek’s scars, and Kek’s mouth pressing _I love yous_ into Bakura’s pale skin. Thoughts swirled in Bakura’s head as his body ran off of instinct. 

“That’s why I bought the fish,” Bakura cried out like he was saying something erotic, though it was his true feelings that he was trying to work out in the middle of hitches of his hips and his toes curling. 

“What do you mean?” Kek asked before sucking Bakura nipples until they were hard beneath his lips and tongue. 

“I was showing you!” Bakura arched into Kek’s mouth. His entire body felt fevered, hot but shaking with chills both at once. “I was… showing… I was never manipulating- I do that with words- I was always trying to _show_ you want I wanted, what I felt...” 

Kek lifted his head, staring at Bakura again. Bakura stared back, knowing his face was as red as Ifrit’s fins. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get it,” Kek whispered, dropping his head and trailing kissing down Bakura’s body. 

“It’s fine.” Bakura shook his head, his voice tight as he tried to talk through the mounting pleasure of Kek’s mouth against his body. “I just want you to know _now_ , so you don’t hold back anymore.” 

“I won’t. Oh Bakura, I’m going to kiss you right where you want it.” Kek swallowed Bakura’s entire length and began sucking. 

“Holy shit.” Bakura groaned as the sweetest shudder ran through his body. He raked his nails against the carpet and pressed up with his feet to shove himself deeper into Kek’s mouth. 

Kek took the extra force in stride, laving his tongue around Bakura’s shaft and head and sucking down to the base. That tender, loving shudder ran up Bakura’s spine again and he rolled his eyes back, out of his mind from the sensation. Bakura lifted his hips up and down in an easy rhythm. He sighed and it turned into a moan. Kek rolled Bakura’s balls in his palm and Bakura scrunched up his face, unable to handle the pleasure. 

“So good,” his whispered, trying to say something, trying to say anything. Words didn’t come easy but it was _so good_ that he had to let Kek know. 

Bakura’s fingers tangled into Kek’s hair. His hips rolled a little faster, and Kek’s tongue felt like a miracle against Bakura’s hard flesh. Bakura whimpered, over and over. He couldn’t utter a word to save his life at that moment, only make noise for Kek as sheer delight burgeoned at the base of Bakura’s stomach and expanded, rising… higher… higher… and then, in a burning crash of desire and twitching euphoria, Bakura came and came and came straight into Kek’s mouth. 

He was senseless by the time his ass crashed back to the carpet. He was tingling from the tips of his fingers to his toes. 

“Did you like that?” Kek whispered as he kissed his way back up Bakura stomach. 

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Bakura muttered. 

Kek sighed, relief and satisfaction mingled in the sound. Bakura forced his eyes open, and pushed himself up onto his forearms. Bakura kissed Kek’s forehead a third time. Kek’s mouth rounded into a silent, wide O. Bakura trailed smaller kisses down Kek’s jaw and throat, across his shoulders and chest. He flipped them yet again, and started kissing his way down Kek’s body in the same way Kek had done.

Kek’s cock was burning, like Ra, and Bakura kissed the head three times before he licked up and down. The skin was smooth, almost tasteless except the faint, sweet and tangy flavor of skin and sweat. Kek grunted and growled and groaned as Bakura lowered his lips around Kek’s fat, brown shaft. 

Bakura could only seal his lips and bob his head. He tried licking around Kek’s cock, but Kek was too full in his mouth. By Kek’s growls of pleasure, he didn’t seem to mind, so Bakura kept bobbing his head and sweeping his white hair out of the way each time it tumbled over his shoulder. 

“Gods!” Kek screamed. He grabbed Bakura’s hair and used it like puppet strings to guide Bakura. 

Bakura groaned around Kek’s cock. His mouth watered, allowing Kek’s shaft to slip in and out effortlessly. Bakura held Kek’s base with one hand and used the other for balance. Each grunt and groan from Kek made Bakura’s heart cartwheel in his chest. He wanted to suck forever, and hear Kek call out forever. Bakura relaxed his throat so Kek could slip deeper into his mouth and was rewarded by a beautiful, long moan. 

“Your mouth looks so good sucking my cock,” Kek growled, his voice gruff. “Take me deeper, Bakura, I want to come right down your throat.” 

The words were the sexiest thing Bakura had ever heard- because Kek was whispering them directly to him in a rough voice. Twitches of excitement jerked the muscles between Bakura’s belly and groin. He found himself shoving Kek in just a little deeper. 

“Good,” Kek purred. “Almost… almost… I’m so close Bakura, I want to come in your mouth.”

Bakura felt Kek swell, felt the vein running up his shaft throb and his cockhead expand. Kek’s exhales became deeper, primal grunts of sheer need, but then he jerked his hips and quick, shallow thrusts and his low grunts became bell-like whines.

“C-coming!” Kek wailed.

Bakura started when he felt how hot and thick Kek’s come felt against his tongue. Instinct took over and he swallowed until Kek’s cock stopped twitching in Bakura’s mouth. When he finally pulled away, Bakura was gasping as hard as Kek. He licked his friction-burned lips and hummed to himself. He’d never felt so… _satisfied_ before. Both giving and receiving had Bakura’s mind in a daze of mellow, happy thoughts. He reached up and tugged the blanket and pillows onto the floor, too tired to climb onto the couch. Kek wrapped them up, spooning against Bakura as they lay together. 

“What was the lullabye you sang the other day? The one I remembered. Sing it for me now,” Bakura whispered, and Kek sang for him. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter they come across some Jizo statues on a hiking trail, and while jizo are known to protect travelers, their real purpose to to help guide the souls of children to the afterlife. Families that lost small children (especially mothers who've had miscarriages) will often leave offerings and sometimes dress the statues up in red caps. 
> 
> Normally I don't like spelling things out to the readers, but b/c this is an unfamiliar culture custom, I thought I'd mention it. Otherwise, I think everyone would miss why Tomoko probably asked Kek to pray to the jizo-sama, and why Bakura gets bothered when he remembers Ryou doing the same thing as a child (after he lost Amane, of course). 
> 
> Also the Sanzu River is like the river to the afterlife. There are some fables where if you're good, you can cross a bridge, but if you were bad in life, you have to ford the river yourself (and depending on how bad will depend on if you get to cross a shallow or deep spot in the river) and then your clothes are weighed on a tree branch to prove how evil you were. (Again, I'm mentioning this b/c there's a spot where Kek says he'd rather get his clothes weighed than his heart).

Bakura sat on the couch with Muhkfi in his lap. They watched Kek on the floor dangling toys for the ferrets to chase. Bakura was surprised at how well Kek cared for all of his pets. It had been a few weeks, but even after cleaning and feeding animals all day long at the pet store, he still came home and did the same for his own. 

“I think we almost have enough saved up for a TV. Next we'll get a gaming system. I think Kaiba Corp is going to release something to compete with Playstation.”

“I'm sure the first 500 games will all be Duel Monsters related.” Kek snorted. 

“As long as there are at least a few good RPGs,” Bakura said.

“You really are a nerd.” Kek grinned.

“And you're a dork with too many pets.” 

“It's probably time to put them back. We'll have to get up early in the morning if we're going camping.” 

“True,” Bakura said, his voice too nonchalant and giving away how nervous he was.

Camping, in its own, wasn't exactly something Bakura was excited about. He'd spent plenty of nights beneath the stars as a thief, but the woods would be isolated. Isolated enough to try and summon Diabound.

If he still could.

Bakura wasn't sure, and that's why he was so nervous. Bakura was alive. Therefore he should have a ka, but what if he didn't? What if there was only failed Shadow Magic left in him? What if, by getting the Ring and submitting to Zorc, Bakura truly had destroyed everything that was ever left of the Thief King he used to be?

“Stop.” Kek settled beside him on the sofa and stroked his hair. 

Bakura sighed and leaned against Kek's shoulder. His movement disturbed Muhkfi, and the tanuki disappeared. Kek took advantage and pulled Bakura onto his chest as he lay down. Kek twined his fingers around a strand of Bakura's ivory hair.

“Your forehead wrinkles when you're worried,” Kek said. “I like it better when you smile. Your nose scrunches up.” 

“Good to know. I'll be sure to work on my resting bitch face so that doesn’t happen anymore.”

“I'd rather help you work on your O face,” Kek purred in a low voice.

Bakura grinned. The worry nettling the back of his mind gave way to more sultry daydreams, ones that Bakura wanted to make real. He lidded his eyes, ghosting his mouth just below Kek's bottom lip.

“Is that a threat? Are you going to make me scream?” 

“Yes,” Kek growled. “You will scream.” 

“Let's go then.” Bakura winked. “We'll see who makes whom scream.” 

They pushed their tongues into each other's mouths. Bakura gripped Kek's shoulders, then he fisted Kek's hair, then he scored his nails down the back of Kek's shirt before tugging it away and dropping it to the floor. 

They rocked against each other. Moans broke up their kisses. Kek pulled Bakura's shirt over his head and frotted through their boxer shorts. Bakura pressed his forehead against Kek's chest and stayed like that, tucked away from his inner worries for a few moments while he lost himself in the warmth and comfort of Kek's body.

Kek slipped their cocks out of their boxers, fumbling with clumsy strokes as he rocked his hips. There wasn't enough room for Bakura to spread his legs, so he wrapped them around Kek's waist and squeezed. Bakura dotted kisses across Kek's chest as his fingers ran across Kek’s scars.

Kek grunted with each thrust, getting closer. Bakura felt the pleasure in his own groin swelling and climbing and threatening to spill over at any second. Closer… closer… he leaned back, nudging his cock forward into Kek’s grip. Kek screamed first, and Bakura felt the warmth of his come dribbling between their pressed cocks. Bakura’s stomach hitched. He held his breath and came a few thrusts later. 

The sat together for a moment, panting, resting their foreheads together. Eventually they stumbled to the bathroom to wash up and changed into fresh boxers before wrapping up in their blanket together. Relaxed from release and tucked into Kek’s embrass, Bakura stopped worrying about Diabound and slept through the night. 

Bakura hated the alarm clock. 

It was the worst invention of modern man and he resented the entire human species for allowing it to exist. 

“I gotta feed everyone.” Kek dotted Bakura’s temple with kisses before unwrapping them and slipping off of the couch.

“Cold,” Bakura growled, tucking the blanket around him like he was an eggroll. 

“Get up and move around you lazy ass. Then you’ll warm up.” Kek laughed as he walked around the kitchen. 

Bakura heard the coffee pot percolating and grinned, but he didn’t move. Fuck that, he’d wait for the coffee first. A few minutes later Kek shook Bakura. 

“Move. I can’t feed Muhkfi with you in the way.” 

“Coffee.” 

“Go get it.” Kek rolled Bakura onto the floor. 

“Fuck you.” Bakura growled, tucking the blanket more firmly around his body and curling into a knot on the floor. 

“Seriously, Bakura. How are you going to survive camping if you can’t even wake up in the comfort of your own home?” 

“Coffee.” Bakura opened one eye, peeking at Kek and grinning. 

With a growl, Kek dropped on top of him, tearing away the blanket and nibbling at Bakura’s throat. Bakura laughed and tried to wrestle away, but his arms were pinned, and his feet were tangled in the blanket, and he really didn’t want to escape anyway. 

“If your lazy ass doesn’t get up right now I’m going to dump the entire pot into your hair!” 

“It’ll absorb it like a sponge.” Bakura snickered. “And then I can drink coffee all day long by wringing it out into a cup.”

Kek wrinkled his face and pushed himself up. He pointedly ignored Bakura’s statement in lieu of setting food and booze out for Muhkfi. Bakura scrambled to a sitting position and smacked the couch cushions three times.

“You’re in charge while we’re gone. Don’t let the ferrets do anything too crazy.” 

Bakura got up, dressed, and brushed his teeth. He realized how stupid that was as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Rolling his eyes, he drank it anyway. Their breakfast was a quick dish of rice and eggs. After their meal, they gathered up their backpacks and took a train further away from town and into the woods. From the station they took a cab- although it was stupid expensive- to the base of the mountain where the trail started. They’d have to walk back since they wouldn’t have a way to call another cab, and it would be a long trek, but Bakura didn’t want to wait until they could afford cell phones, so they decided to suck it up and regret their decision later. 

Bakura looked around as they ascended up the trail. He had to admit, it was better than sand dunes. At least the shade kept the sun from broiling them, and the trees broke up the monotony. He glanced at Kek. As always, Kek looked around with a lopsided grin that reminded Bakura of a rabid dog, but his eyes were bright and wide, absorbing everything around him in an excited way that made Bakura smile. 

“If you had a tail, it’d be wagging,” Bakura teased. 

“Oh come on!” Kek shouted. “You know what butt-fuck nowhere Egypt looks like. This is amazing! Look at those birds! I don’t even know what they are, but they’re great. I’ll have to get a book at the library so I can start identifying them.” 

“That one’s a woodpecker.” Bakura gestured to a bird off to their right. “And… that’s the only one I know.” 

“You’re a shitty guide. You should have let your host outside once in awhile.” 

“Pffft, shows what you know about Ryou. He was not the outdoors type.” 

“Whatever. I am.”

“Wait until we’re leaving to make that decision. Nature is crueler than either of us ever were. A few insect bites and some nice rocks under the sleeping bags might change your mind.” 

“You’re just a wimp that can’t take a little fresh air.” 

“I pay good money at home for air conditioning, and that’s better than fresh air any day.” 

Nevertheless, the air did smell sweet, laced with the scent of maples and pines. As they walked, they came across little jizo statues on the trail. Each time Kek would place a leaf-wrapped onigiri at the statue's feet and pray for a moment before continuing on. 

“Why?” Bakura asked the third time Kek did it.

He shrugged. “Tomoko asked me to too, and hey, they protect travellers, right?” 

“I guess.” Bakura frowned.

He couldn’t shake the memory of Ryou, a very young Ryou, dressing them up in red caps and crying for his sister. Bakura didn’t like to think about the statues and looked away each time Kek stopped. At some point, Kek took Bakura’s hand, and Bakura smiled despite himself, distracted from his memories. They stopped at a clearing near the edge of a cliff and decided that was where they’d camp. Earlier that week, they’d found a small tent and sleeping bags at the thrift store, so they had everything they needed. 

“Hungry?” Bakura asked. 

“Starving.” Kek cleared a spot to start a fire. “Feed me.” 

Bakura snorted, and searched the ice chest they brought for their lunch. They ate cold pork fried rice and played cards for an hour. 

“Well?” Kek asked, excited as ever. “When are you going to try?”

“I don’t know.” Bakura scratched his arm above his sleeve. “Should I wait until nightfall? What if someone sees?”

“No one’s here.” Kek gestures to the empty, cloudless sky above them, and the thick forest behind them filled with only birds and chipmunks. “Do it.”

Bakura’s face twisted. “What if I can’t.”

“Then you can’t. But what if you can?” 

“Yeah.” Bakura dug his nails into his palms, trying to remember the old anger and fury that used to help him summon Diabound in his first life. “Yeah, when the fuck have I ever been afraid to fail before?” 

“Right? Stop being a bitch and fucking go for it.” 

Bakura stood up and walked to the edge of the cliff. He stared at the blue sky, the trees, the silver thread below that was some sort of far away creek. This was nothing like the desert. Even the sky was a different color blue, saturated instead of pale. Bakura closed his eyes. It didn't help. The breeze was gentle instead of a harsh dry sting, there were too many birds, and everything smelt rich and earthy instead of hot and baking. 

Bakura’s mind sank a little deeper into himself. Even his soul felt as different as the landscape, too alive, too verdant, nothing like the thief that stormed into a Pharaoh’s palace thousands of years ago. But there was _something_ there. Something familiar, but almost lost, like his mother’s lullabies. Bakura focused on that _something_ within him. He knew he succeeded not by any sensation within himself, but because he heard Kek whistle behind him. 

“Beautiful,” Kek said.

Bakura opened his eyes, blinking away sunlight and squinting. Bakura’s face dropped. 

“He’s dark.” 

He wasn’t as dark as he could have been. At least he didn’t look like Zorc, but Diabound was still changed. He was a grayish color with a hint of green, like lichen on stone. The horns were longer, more twisted. The snake was still hooded like a cobra. Bakura remembered, in a far off, dreamy way, that his ka had evolved towards the end, after the fighting began, after his anger started to spin away, and certainly after he’d gotten the Ring. The tiger-like stripes now marring Daibound’s skin felt like scars. 

“What did he look like before?” 

“Bright.” Bakura answered. His eyes seared in his head, like they were going to boil right out of his face. “I don’t know why I care.” Bakura tried to swallow, but it felt like needles were criss-crossed through his throat. “I did it on purpose. I remember doing it on purpose. I wanted him stronger, and this is what I did to myself-”

Bakura dropped to his knees, fisting the grass below him. Kek knelt beside him and snaked his arms around Bakura’s body. 

“Hey. He’s beautiful,” Kek whispered into Bakura’s hair. “Just like you.” 

“He was bright!” Bakura screamed. “I trashed myself, more than once. I trashed my _fucking soul_ , and for what? Revenge that I didn’t get!” 

“There’s nothing wrong with your ka. I love it- and I love you.” 

The words made Bakura cling to Kek; he nodded. Bakura sniffed, rubbing at his eyes with his wrists although he wasn’t crying, just close to it. 

“Heh. Thanks. That… helps.” Bakura sighed. Kek moved in to kiss Bakura’s face, but Bakura caught his cheeks and directed the kiss to their mouths. He moaned as he savored the taste of Kek’s lips, breaking away to speak. “Love you too, you spikey haired jackass.” 

“You said it!” Kek cheered. He grabbed Bakura and hoisted him into the air, spinning them both around. 

They laughed as they twirled. Bakura’s hair swirled like silver-white ribbons. Something cracked in the air, like thunder only sharper. They stopped, jerking their heads towards the sound, towards Diabound. The ka hovered in the air, as dark as ever - except the four wings behind Diabound’s back. They glowed, the same color as Bakura’s hair. 

That’s when the tears fell. The ones Bakura had managed to hold back. It was hard to accept being loved, especially when Bakura could see just how dark he’d become, but it was harder still… to accept that if his spiritual light could fade, then it could be rekindled. And it hadn't been Kek’s love that had fixed him, because Kek had loved him as he was- it was Bakura admitting that _he_ had the capacity to love someone back that had purified Diabound’s wings. 

“Do you think… my ka’s changing too?” Kek asked in a quiet voice. 

“I have no doubt.” Bakura ran his fingers through Kek’s hair. Kek smiled and wiped the tears off of Bakura’s cheeks. Bakura called back Diabound.

“Why’d you call him back?”

“We came here to see if I can summon him, and I can, but it’s better than no one else knows that.” 

“It’s a shame.” Kek glanced at the spot in the sky where Diabound had hovered a moment before. “Wish I could see him in battle.” 

“Just knowing that he’s still with me is good enough.” Bakura sighed. “It’s actually a relief. Even darker… it’s like I’m still me.” 

“What do we do for the rest of the night?”

“After dark we can build up the fire and tell ghost stories,” Bakura suggested. 

“I don’t know any.”

Bakura snorted. “Don’t worry, Ryou was obsessed. I have enough memorized to keep us busy all night.”

“What do we do until then?”

“Gather firewood?” Bakura shrugged, scrubbing his face with his shirt to make sure any stray tear trails didn’t linger on his face. 

“Let’s climb a tree.” Kek ran to a knotted trunk not too far from their tent and started to hoist himself up. 

“Are you… serious?” Bakura’s face twisted in disbelief. 

“Look,” Kek shouted as he climbed. “Malik never did shit like this as a kid- he couldn’t. And I didn’t really exist, so I couldn’t either. Fuck life for screwing me out of this experience. I’m going to climb this fucking tree right now.” 

“Yeah fuck life.” Bakura smirked as he walked up to the tree. “Hell, I never got to climb trees either. Let’s do this.” 

When he reached the branch Kek rested on, he noticed Kek scowling and sucking on his palm. Bakura reached out for Kek’s hand. 

“Don’t touch. I have a splinter.” Kek held his hand to his chest. 

“Trust me.” Bakura took Kek’s hand and examined Kek’s palm. The splinter was embedded too deeply to pluck out. Bakura pulled out his pocket knife and, with a few quick flicks of the tip, removed the splinter from Kek’s hand. He kissed the spot. “There. It’s gone. Stay here. I’ll go get a bandage from the first aid kit we brought.” 

“I’m glad you said it, but you really are good at showing it, you know that?”

“Huh?” Bakura asked. 

“That you love me.” Kek closed his eyes and kissed Bakura’s forehead. 

“Well, fuck, someone has to take care of you.” Bakura grabbed the trunk and fumbled his way to the ground. 

He rummaged through their knapsack and slipped the bandage into his pocket before climbing back up the tree to finish nursing Kek’s hand. He couldn’t help kissing Kek’s palm a second time. After the first kiss, Bakura’s lips travelled up to Kek’s wrist. Finally, he pulled Kek closer and brushed their lips together. Their thighs hugged the branch to keep their balance as they teased their mouths together. They held onto each other, refusing to stop, kissing until their mouths burned. Bakura’s hands wandered to Kek’s hair, or his hips, or traced the scars on his back. Time disappeared. 

It wasn’t until Bakura’s eyes fluttered open and he saw the way Kek’s skin glowed in the golden dusk light that he realized how long they’d been making out. Bakura pulled away, drying his mouth with the back of his arm. 

“Damn. We really do need firewood before it gets too dark.” 

“Sorry.” In the orange-gold light Kek’s cheeks looked flushed, and Bakura loved the look on him. “I got carried away.”

“Me too,” Bakura confessed as he climbed down. 

The both managed it without having to break open the first aid kit for a second time. They wandered around their campsite, grabbing broken branches and twigs for their campfire. They didn’t stop until they had a heap up past their knees. Kek giggled as he built up the fire. The orange light reflected in his gleeful eyes.

“Still a pyromaniac.” 

“I can’t help it. Fire’s gorgeous. Although-” Kek winked. “Not as gorgeous as the way your hair looks reflecting the firelight.” 

Bakura shoved Kek's shoulder and gathered up their dinner. After eating, Bakura told ghost stories until he couldn't stop yawning. Keep scooped Bakura into his arms and carried him to the tent. 

“It's nice tonight,” Bakura muttered as he crawled into the tent. He pulled their sleeping bags closer to the tent flap. “Let's sleep like this so we can look at the stars.” 

“Okay.” Kek slipped into his sleeping bag and looked out of the opened tent-flap and up into the sky. “I'm glad we're alive.”

“Me too.” 

“What happens when we die? Will we go to the Duat? Or will we cross the Sanzu River? I think if I had to choose, I'd want my clothes weighed and not my heart because I'd rather see Tomoko again after I died instead of Malik's mom.” 

“I don't know. I'm really bad at dying.” Bakura laughed, but it was a heavy sound. “Maybe spirits can switch from one afterlife to another? Like taking a ship to another country?” Bakura sighed. “I wonder if my mom is one of the stars we're looking at right now.” 

“Hmm…” Kek squinted up at the sky and pointed. “She's that one.”

“Why that one?” Bakura smiled as he asked. 

“Because it's shining right over you.” 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted their first time to be... a learning experience. Some times in fanfiction every lemon is a sweeping, grand, perfect moment, but I wanted them to fail their first attempt at penetration to keep with the general tone/themes of the story and their characters. Also, Bakura is too suborn to know when to quit. (he's fine though, don't worry).

“You were right. The ground is pretty hard,” Kek murmured, pulling Bakura closer the next morning when they woke up.

“So fucking cold,” Bakura growled. 

“You’re cold every morning.”

Bakura only grunted as he blinked his eyes open. The air was gray. Birds sang in the branches above them and their fire was a useless smolder of embers. Bakura shivered and pushed himself a little deeper into Kek’s arms, there was no avoiding the discomfort of getting up. After a moment, Bakura pushed himself up and shoved his shoes on so he could rebuild the fire enough to cook breakfast. 

“The walk back is going to be such a bitch,” Bakura said. 

Kek groaned in reply. He searched their knapsack and found his toothbrush and deodorant. They milled about like an old domestic couple. Kek upacked the dishes as Bakura brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth with canteen water. Then Bakura boiled instant coffee and cooked oatmeal that they ate from paper cups instead of proper bowls. They chewed their food in silence, both too tired for banter, and then found a creek they could use to wash their faces, clean their dishes, and fill their canteens. When they returned to their camp they put out the fire and packed up.

“It was still fun,” Kek said as they gathered everything together before making the trek back down the mountain. 

“Yeah, I guess. My favorite part was losing track of time as we made out in the tree.” Bakura grinned. 

“My favorite part was you saying you loved me.” Kek bumped Bakura with his hip and started walking. 

“Don’t be so candid. It makes you look soft.” Bakura rolled his eyes. 

“Then I’m soft.” Kek tossed his head back, staring at the birds in the trees. The first gold of morning finally reached their side of the mountain. It couldn’t compare, however, to the gold of Kek’s hair. “I wanted darkness. I wanted to swallow it whole and hold it inside me and never let it go. You know how that feels. That want. That hunger. That need. But now that I’m here.” Kek licked his lips, shaking his head. “I want this so much more. Our little apartment, my job at the pet store, you in my arms every night. I never really knew desire until I had a chance to live like everyone else. So if I’m soft. Fuck it. I _want it_.” 

Bakura grinned to himself, keeping his eyes on his feet as their steps kicked pebbles down the path. “That monologue was so long, that for a moment I thought I’d have to listen to it all the way to the station.” 

“Fuck you. You know you feel the exact same way.”

Bakura threaded his fingers with Kek’s and swung their hands as they walked. 

“I’ve gotten good as listening to how you say things.” Kek squeeze their fingers together. 

“I guess you have.” Bakura gestured with his chin. “I think that one’s a lark.” 

“You knew something useful after all.” 

“I don’t even know how. Ryou must have seen a documentary or something. Weird things stay in my head.” 

“I’m sore from sleeping on the ground. Want to take a bath when we get home?”

“Fuck yes I do.”

They continued down the mountain and then along the road toward the station. Bakura scowled at the blisters he felt swelling up on his heels. Cheap shoes. He missed the days when he could steal a horse and ride wherever he wanted to. At least they weren’t cold after walking such a long way. On the bus, Kek described a book he was reading, and Bakura divided his attention between listening to Kek and staring out the window. They stopped for lunch when in town, and then walked the last few blocks to their apartment. Bakura and Kek both shoved their camping gear in the back bedroom, unconcerned about the pile in the corner of the near-empty room. 

Bakura groaned as he peeled off his socks, checking the blisters welling up on his heals _and_ the side of each big toe. The ferrets chattered from their cage, racing in circles in excitement when they saw Kek. He grinned, opened the cage, and allowed the rodents to climb up on him, perching on each shoulder. 

“I’m going to feed everyone. Go ahead and take the first shower.” Kek wandered off. 

Bakura stripped bare, tossing his dirty clothes on top of the camping gear and reminding himself to do laundry later. He padded down the hall and to the bathroom, allowing the bath to run as he washed himself in the shower. A shiver ran up Bakura’s spin as his hands brushed over his body to rinse away the soap bubbles. His cock swelled and lifted up and Bakura reached down to tease his thumb across his own cockhead. Bakura blew out a breath. He knew that Kek wanted to fool around in the bath, but Bakura was in the mood for more than a hand job. 

He lathered his hands with soap and scrubbed his entire body. After rinsing off, he slipped his middle finger into his ass, experimenting with slow in and out movements. Once he worked himself up to a quicker pace, he worked in a second finger. It didn’t glide in as easily, he had to wiggle it and push a little more, but he was able to manage without too much trouble. Bakura leaned his right shoulder against the shower wall, panting as he continued to feel out his own asshole. 

Assuming he was stretched out enough, Bakura turned off the shower and slipped into the enormous bath tub, leaning back. His cock was painfully stiff, wanting to finish what he’d started in the shower. He looked relaxed on the outside, but the inside of his mind reeled with scenarios that made his guts tremble in anticipation. 

The knots in his stomach tightened when he heard Kek enter the bathroom. The shower ran again. Bakura kept his breathing steady despite his heartbeat striking against his sternum. He bit the inside of his cheek, counting seconds as if that would force Kek to hurry. 

When he finally stepped out of the shower and into the tub, Bakura blew out all the air in his lungs and opened his eyes so he could admire Kek's naked body. The rest of the bathroom, the stains, the cracks, the chipped enamel, all disappeared as Bakura hyper-focused on Kek sitting across from him. 

“So, um…” Kek stuttered, looking off to the side.

Without speaking, Bakura glided through the water and crawled into Kek's lap. Holding each side of Kek's face, he brushed their lips together. Kek whimpered, relaxing into Bakura's hold. His hands fumbled across Bakura's chest. His fingers stumbled below the water, searching for Bakura's cock.

“Wait, mmmm, wait.” Bakura moaned as Kek wrapped his hands around Bakura's shaft.

“What's wrong?” Kek opened his eyes, staring at Bakura.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just… want to try…” Bakura splashed as he raised up, grabbed Kek's cock, and situated his ass over Kek's cockhead.

“Oh gods.” Kek's eyes widened and his jaw dropped as Bakura eased his weight lower. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“A… little… more.” Bakura pressed his body down. 

He thought the water would be enough to both relax him and get Kek in, but it wasn't. Bakura pushed his weight down, and down, but he felt like Kek's girth would tear him in half. Bakura grit his teeth and kept pushing. He couldn’t understand how it’d been so easy to get his fingers in, but so difficult to fit in Kek’s cock. 

“B-Ba-kura,” Kek stuttered with a shaking breath.

“Almost, almost,” Bakura growled.

“Take it slow.” Kek rubbered circles against the small of Bakura's back. He was panting, eyes glazed, pupils dilated, cock twitching as Bakura's rim squeezed against his flesh. 

Kek held onto Bakura’s hips, leaning forward to kiss across his chest. Bakura pressed his forehead against the crown of Kek’s head. The shower had Kek’s hair semi-lax from the weight of the water, and Bakura inhaled the scent of their shampoo in Kek’s hair as he tried to relax his body. 

“I’ll… adjust-” Bakura squirmed in Kek’s lap, trying to find an angle that would help him slide down Kek’s shaft.

“Here.” Kek pushed Bakura’s hips lower, impaling Bakura deeper onto his cock. 

Bakura screamed as fire shot into his gut. His nails dug into Kek’s shoulders and his face burned although they were only half as searing hot as his insides. 

“We can stop.” Kek floated his fingers just above Bakura’s hips.

“No.” Bakura ground his teeth. Despite the fire, there was something about the overwhelming sensation of being filled. He didn’t want to stop, he wanted to ride Kek in the same way he used to race horses through the desert. He simply didn’t want his guts to burn in the same way the Egyptian sun used to make his skin burn without a robe to protect him. 

“Bakura-”

“No!” Bakura growled. “Gimme a moment.”

Bakura eased up and sank back down, hoping the whimper he made sounded erotic and not pathetic. Every instinct in his body told him to _move_ , and yet at the same time, he felt like his body was trying to push Kek out and as far away as possible. Bakura forced himself to rise and sink a few more times. Tears welled up in the corner of his eyes, but he grit his teeth and kept his slow pace, hoping that he’d adjust and the pleasure that he felt lingering _just out of reach_ would swoop in and carry him away. 

“Bakura.” Kek held his hips again, but this time to hold them still. He kissed Bakura’s chest whispering his name again and again. “Bakura… Bakura… it’s okay. You can stop.”

“But I _want this_ -”

“Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay-”

“Dammit!” Bakura smacked his palm against Kek’s shoulder in outraged protest. “You should _like_ this! Don’t you get off on pain? Bastard.”

“I used to like card games, too.” Kek lifted Bakura up until he was off of his cock. 

The moment Kek unsheathed himself, all of Bakura’s will collapsed and his body with it. He allowed Kek to cradle him in the warm water, kissing his face, holding him close, rubbing his side the same way someone rubs a sore spot. Bakura groaned between quick, shallow breaths, a mix of aggravation, sexual frustration, and yearning. 

“Just let me catch- my breath- and we’ll try- again.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kek held Bakura’s face. “You didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself at all.”

“Was too.” Bakura scowled, though the expression felt flimsy on his face. He was too sore and exhausted to be angry. 

“Oh, really?” Kek asked in a sarcastic tone. 

“Yes,” Bakura insistered, flicking his eyes to the old, faded laminate on the bathroom floor. “Okay, it was pretty rough, but I still want to figure it out, dammit.” 

“ _Hmm_ ,” Kek grunted. He tangled his fingers into Bakura’s hair and pulled his head back, kissing up and down his throat. “Wait one week, then we’ll try again.” 

“A week? Why? Let’s try again now.” Bakura wanted to sound irritated, but he sighed and craned his neck so that Kek could kiss him more deeply. 

“One week, and if you tell me to keep going next week, I’ll listen.”

“Fine.” Bakura snorted, squirming as Kek’s lips against his throat brought back the arousal he’d lost when Kek had stopped them. “But-”

“Don’t worry.” Kek grinned against Bakura’s throat, giving him a quick love bite at the junction before situating Bakura back where he’d started, only this time their cocks were pressed flushed together and he wrapped his hand around both of them. “I’ll make sure you come.” 

Bakura groaned again, only this time it was all pleasure. He hitched, ass still sore, but it was mild and Bakura didn’t mind it, especially when the pleasure was already building in his cock. Kek squeezed their shafts together, making sure his cockhead rubbed against Bakura’s until Bakura was panting and blushing again but without the tears from earlier lining his eyes. Kek grabbed Bakura’s ass with his free hand, guiding Bakura up and down in swift, abrupt movements. Steam surrounded them as they rocked and water splashed over the lip of the tub, but they ignored it, fully engulfed in the way their bodies moved against each other. 

“I want you. To feel. Good when I fuck you.” Kek spoke in a low, graveled voice, making shivers sprint up and down Bakura’s spine as he continued to hitched against Kek’s cock. “So tell me, Bakura…” Kek lowered his voice. “Do you feel good?”

Bakura nodded his head, lost in the swelling euphoria accumulating from his belly to his cockhead. 

“Say it.”

“ _Mmmph_!” 

“Close enough.” Kek laughed. He reached behind Bakura with the hand holding his ass and teased his fingertip back and forth across Bakura’s asshole. 

Bakura muffled a needy whine. He wanted Kek to press into him, make him feel like he’d felt in the shower but even _more_. Kek didn’t indulge him, however, merely teased Bakura. Nonetheless, being so close, _so close_ , to exactly what he wanted made Bakura’s cock twitch in Kek’s hand. He felt his asshole contracting, trying to suck in Kek’s finger. _Damn he wished Kek was inside of him._ But the teasing shoved him to the edge nonetheless. So, close, so close, so fucking close- Bakura closed his eyes, pressed their foreheads together, and screamed as he came. 

“Bakura,” Kek growled in Bakura’s ear as he held Bakura close. 

His hands slipped away from Bakura. The first one fisted his own cock while the second held onto Bakura’s hip like he needed a safety rail. The water was low in the tub, a good portion soaking into the towel they used as a bath mat. The air puckered Bakura’s skin and he noticed that Kek’s nipples were rigid from chill. He dipped lower into the hot water, sighing as it warmed him. Bakura opened his mouth and sealed his lips against Kek’s left nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue. 

“Bakura!” Kek screamed, his chest flexing as his orgasm made his entire body taut. 

Bakura moaned, mouth still against Kek’s chest. When they settled again, Kek turned on the faucet to refill the tub and bring the hot water back around them. Bakura stayed in Kek’s lap. He was both sated and sulking from the experience. Kek combed his fingers through Bakura’s hair, neither gloating about the way Bakura failed, nor giving any clues as to why he wanted to wait a week. 

Despite being annoyed with himself, the water bobbing around Bakura’s skin relaxed him, and he dozed against Kek’s chest until the water was luke warm and they decided to get out and unpack from camping. There was laundry, cleaning up the bathroom floor, grocery shopping, and preparing for another work week. Bakura frowned through all of it.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Kek said after dinner as he dragged a toy across the floor for the ferrets to chase. 

“I want to try again.”

“I know you do.”

“Let me try tomorrow.” 

“You’ll be too sore.” 

“How do you know?”

“I can tell by how you were moving all day long.” 

Bakura held his breath, furious that it was obvious. “Thursday, then.”

“You’re such a stubborn asshole.” Kek shook his head. “I want to go to the library and do some research. Give me a week.”

“People managed fucking long before the invention of the internet.” Bakura dug his nails into his palms. Something soft tickled his elbow and he jerked away before sighing in relief. “Dammit Mukhfi.”

He reached out and smoothed his hand over the tanuki’s fur. Mukhfi curled into Bakura's lap and closed his eyes.

“Hey, I think your pet monster wants a snack or something.” Bakura scowled, but kept combing his fingers down Mukhfi’s back.

“I think he just wants to cuddle.” Kek grinned. “He likes you.” 

“I have no idea why.” Bakura snorted, but he leaned back so that he and the tanuki both were comfortable. 

Perhaps too comfortable. Bakura fell asleep all but hugging the tanuki to his chest. He wasn’t sure when Kek joined him, but there they were on the sofa, wrapped together like paper and ribbon and Bakura clung to Kek like they were still lost in the Shadows. It felt desperate, them lying in each other’s arms. In mere hours they’d have to untangle themselves and go to work, and then they’d be apart for most of the day. Bakura wasn’t looking forward to the separation. He clung more fiercely as if he could slow time if only he could compress their bodies close enough together. 

“You okay?” Kek murmured, more asleep than awake. 

“I don’t want to let go,” Bakura whispered. 

“Then don’t.” There was joy in Kek’s voice as he returned the embrace. 

“Have to, eventually.” 

“But that’s what makes it good.”

“Hmph.” Bakura snorted. “I suppose you’re right.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids... lube is important


	16. Chapter 16

Work was busy. Busy. The lunch rush hit early, it never slowed down, then it was time for the dinner rush, and Bakura knew he was going to have to stay until close because there was no way he was leaving Granny alone in ramen hell. The only problem was, neither neither he nor Kek had a cell phone. After getting their only two plates thrown at his head, Bakura had learned his lesson- let Kek know if he wasn’t going to be home. But how? He couldn’t call, or text, or leave to write a note. He finally gave in and used the store phone to call the pet shop, hoping Kek was still at work. Someone picked up and gave a cheerful greeting introducing the pet shop. Bakura tuned it out, waiting for them to stop speaking before he asked. 

“Is Kek there?”

Should he say Kek Ishtar? Did Kek even go by that last name? What was Bakura’s last name? He had no fucking clue what his full name would technically be. It was something to worry about when he didn’t have seven orders going at once. 

“Bakura?” Kek asked. 

“Kek?” Bakura frowned at the phone. “Did you just answer the phone with a bullshit Namu persona?”

“No!” Kek shouted. “Look. Shut-up, okay? Everyone has a bullshit customer service persona. Don’t you?”

Bakura snicked. “The fuck’s customer service? You’ve met Granny. That woman is nothing if not blunt. Which is why I’m calling. We’re slammed, and I can’t leave her here alone. I’ll be home late, so don’t throw a plate at my head when I get in.” 

“You remembered.” Kek chuckled on the phone.

“One does not easily forget nearly getting decapitated.” 

“I meant you remembered to let me know, smart ass.”

“Yeah, well… maybe I don’t like seeing you upset.” Several timers beeped all at once, letting Bakura know it was time to get back into the rush. “Hey, I have to go, but, I, uh, I-miss-you-bye.”

Bakura slammed the phone down before Kek could respond and ran back to his battle station. He pulled all the noodles, shook them, tossed them into bowls, and set new batches down before garnishing everything and putting them up to be served. He took a few out himself so Granny wouldn’t have to run back and forth as many times, and then started chopping new vegetables to start it all over again. 

By the end of the night, the kitchen was trashed, as was the dining room. Granny started brewing a fresh pot of coffee, gesturing for Bakura to sit down before they had to clean the entire restaurant by themselves. Bakura sat on his favorite stool and cradled his forehead in his hands, exhausted. 

“This is becoming too common,” Granny said. 

“Is it the busy season or something?” Bakura asked, not really paying attention. Instead, he daydreamed about Kek running a bath for him when he finally got home. 

“It’s your fault, stupid. This place is getting more of a reputation now. New customers are coming to try it.” 

“Well, fuck. I was never good at being mediocre.” Bakura snorted. “How do we make some of them go away? I could poison one or two.” 

“I have a better idea. I’m going to put an ad in the paper. I want you to do the interviews and hire a dishwasher and a waitress.” 

“Me? Why should I pick who we hire? This is your restaurant.” 

“I hate people. I don’t want to deal with them.” Granny poured her usual whiskey into her cup and topped it off with coffee. She held the bottle up with a raised eyebrow, asking Bakura if he wanted any. He shook his head no- he’d fall asleep if he drank anything- and she shrugged and gave him black coffee instead. 

“I hate people, too,” Bakura said. 

“But I’m the boss, so I get to pass off the chores I don’t want.”

“Fine, but if I’m stuck doing this, I’m telling them that part of the job is closing on Saturdays so we don’t have to hose down the floor anymore.” 

“Ha, see? You’re going to be great at picking out new people. Also…” Granny pursed her lips. “I’m going to give you a raise.”

“I don’t need a raise.” Bakura looked away. 

Actually, he did need a raise, and Bakura was usually one to take anything offered to him and more on top of it, but with Granny it was a little different. As much as he hated to admit it, this place had become another village to Bakura. It was home, and he didn’t steal from his own- that’s what pharaohs were for. 

“Don’t tell me how to run my restaurant. If you’re going to be the proper cook, you need to make more than the dishwasher. Besides, I’m old. What am I going to do with money? Give it to Gin when I die? He’s a nice kid, but a wet blanket. Rather give you a bigger share now.”

Bakura choked on a sip of coffee from laughing. 

“That damn fool doesn't know the difference between a shallot and a bulb of garlic. He doesn’t deserve my money. You’re getting a raise.” 

“Fine. I’m not going to argue twice about getting more money. Just don’t yell at me if I hire street punks. I’m a horrible judge of character.” 

Bakura chugged his coffee, suffering through the burn of his throat to get it down, and then started on dishes while Granny went to wipe down tables. It took an hour of scrubbing before they left for the night. Bakura was ready to drop onto the carpet by the time he got home. The lights were off, so he flicked them on without thinking. Kek was curled up asleep, but he stirred at the light.

“Sorry,” Bakura muttered.

“Hey.” Kek sat up, yawning. “I tried to stay up, but this couch is too comfortable. Hungry?”

“Nah, I ate meals at work.”

“Want a bath?”

“I can get it.” Bakura peeled off his clothes and tossed them into the washer machine. 

“I know you can, but I wanted to sit in there with you.” Kek grinned. 

Bakura crooked his finger in a _come here_ gesture, enticing Kek into the bathroom. Kek drew the baths as Bakura showered, and then they both sank up to their chest in the steaming water. 

“Come here.” 

Kek pulled Bakura into his lap and pressed Bakura’s head on his chest so he could doze and relax at the same time without falling below the surface. Bakura groaned in pleasure from Kek handling him, and then again when Kek stroked his fingers through Bakura’s hair. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll wake you up when the water gets cold.” 

“This is heaven.” Bakura wrapped his arms around Kek’s waist as his brain sank into a warm, pleasant, half-asleep fog. 

“Pretty sure heaven’s bathtubs aren’t chipped.”

“Maybe they should be. I don’t think even a pharaoh has ever enjoyed a bath half as much as I’m enjoying this.” 

“That’s because a pharaoh has never worked half as hard as you’ve worked tonight.”

“Good point.” Bakura hummed. His last thought as he drifted off was about getting cell phones. He wanted to wait until he bought them first, then surprise Kek with them and tell him about getting a raise at work. 

***

He hired a scrawny kid named Ko as the dishwasher and a slightly older girl named Chie as a waitress, and he instantly regretted both choices. Ko was too chatty. He never shut up and more than once Bakura thought about shoving his knife into the kid’s throat, but then he’d have to wash it himself, being that the dishwasher was dead. Chie was the opposite. She wore more makeup and eyeliner than Malik, and scowled at everyone. 

“Order up!” Bakura shouted again, but Chie was nowhere in sight. He saw Ko leaning against the counter and flirting with Soy Sauce Girl. “Hey, you. If you’re going to talk to her, why don’t you go run out this soup first!” 

Bakura didn’t give Ko time to talk back, surely he would, and instead went to search for Chie. He found her out back smoking a cigarette.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?”

“I hate people.” She blew smoke out above her head.

“Join the fucking club. I still do my job.” 

“I think I’m going to quit.”

“I thought you needed the money?” 

“I do, but talking to people makes my hands shake. Then I have to come out here and smoke a cigarette to calm my nerves. Look-” she tossed the cigarette down and ground it out with her shoe, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at Bakura. “You’re just going to fire me anyway for the smoke breaks. Isn’t it better I quite first?”

“What if I made Ko wait the tables?” Bakura smirked as the idea came to him. If Chie hated people, and didn’t talk, then Bakura could get some gods damned peace and quiet in the kitchen again. Ko didn’t want to do anything but talk to the customers anyway. 

“You mean wash dishes?”

“You’d basically be by yourself all day long.” 

She nodded her head and they went back inside. Chie bee-lined for the sink, getting started on the pile Ko had been neglecting. 

“Hey, I gave that guy his food, but his friends showed up and they were hungry too, so I wrote their orders down on this tablet I found?” Ko shoved the ticket through the window at Bakura.

“Perfect.” Bakura snatched from him. “Go make sure they all have enough tea, and wipe down the tables and I’ll call you when it’s ready.” 

“But don’t you want me to wash-”

“No, you suck at dishes. You’re the waiter now.” 

“Oh, that sounds way more fun. Okay. I’ll go make fresh tea.” Ko waltzed away from the window and to the electric kettle. 

“Great. This might work after all,” Bakura muttered as he read the new order. “I really didn’t want to do more interviews.” 

“How many did you do? Two?” Chie snorted, still at the sink. 

“I’ll have you know, I did three.” Bakura tossed two more orders of noodles into the water and started chopping. 

“Who was possibly worse than me and Ko?”

“Some girl. She smiled too much. It pissed me off. Didn’t want to work with her.” 

“Idiot. You’re _supposed_ to smile at the customers.”

“I have never seen you smile at a single customer.” 

“Touché.” 

After that they went about their own business. They’d toss an insult or smart quip at each other once in awhile, but for the most part worked in silence. After dishes, she went around with a broom without Bakura having to tell her to five times like he did with Ko. Meanwhile, Ko greeted people the moment they came inside and brought them tea and menus. 

Payday came and went, and Bakura took off an hour early so he could buy a pair of cellphones for Kek and himself. He was grinning when he came home that afternoon, but his smile turned into a groan when he walked inside and saw the birdcage in the corner of their living room. 

“Kek? Really?”

“Bakura, I can explain.” Kek gave him a sheepish grin. 

“Oh yeah? Explain.” 

“They’re really cute.” 

“You bastard, that’s an excuse, not an explanation. Kek, this apartment isn’t big enough for so many pets.” 

“It’s just four love birds. I didn’t even buy them. Someone was giving them away with the cage. How was I supposed to say no?”

“By opening your mouth and starting with an n sound while ending with an o sound.” 

“Speaking of O’s.” Kek walked up to Bakura and grabbed his waist, pulling them together until their noses bumped. “It’s been two weeks and you haven’t brought up having sex yet.” 

“You can’t just bribe me with sex in order to have more pets.”

“Can’t I?” Kek dipped Bakura backwards, and nibbled on his throat. 

Bakura grunted as his nerves tingled from the sensation. His dick stirred within his boxers and Kek deepened the kisses and bites against Bakura’s neck. He’d been so stressed about new hires and training, that he hadn’t complained while Kek stuck to hand jobs every night, but now that the topic was broached again… Bakura’s urge to try flared up inside him. 

“Okay, maybe you can. What did you have in mind?”

“Come to the bedroom and find out.” Kek straightened them upright once again and led Bakura by the hand as they walked towards the bedroom. 

Bakura did not expect to see the giant floor cushion or extra blankets set up in the corner of the room when Kek opened the door. A lamp sat on the bookshelf. The light glowed a soft, off white instead of the harsher ceiling light. A few scented candles had the room smelling of lavender and vanilla, and a bottle of lube sat within easy reach of the make-shit bed. 

“Wow, you’ve been busy.” 

“I swapped some hours around with a co-worker to clock out early and set this all up.” 

“Oh, that reminds me.” Bakura reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. “This is for you. It already has my number in it. You should text me sometime.” Bakura gave Kek a flirty wink and a finger gun. 

“You got us phones? How did you afford this? I’ve been saving up for a while to get the cushion and lamps.” 

“I got a raise.” Bakura felt his nose scrunch up as he grinned. “Surprise.” 

“That’s amazing.”

“Eh, at least it will help us buy everything on our wish list now.” 

“Now we can afford more pets.” Kek smirked. 

“I will murder you in your sleep.”

“No you won’t.” Kek lifted Bakura up and tossed down onto the cushions. 

He pinned Bakura in place by straddling him and grabbed his phone. After a few swipes, music played out of the tiny speaker. Kek set the phone aside and grabbed Bakura’s wrists instead. Bakura’s eyes were wide and his mouth was slack. He swallowed and tried to catch his breath, but his lungs felt weak as Kek loomed over him. Bakura’s fantasies stampeded out of control. He imagined Kek tearing his clothing from his body, ramming his cock into Bakura’s ass, and pounding him so hard his voice gave out from screaming. 

So Bakura was a little confused with Kek pressed the hem of Bakura’s shirt up and dotted gentle little kisses across his tummy. He grabbed Kek’s arms, digging his nails into his skin and hitching up to show that he was ready for more, but Kek only pushed the shirt up high enough to lick one of Bakura’s nipples. 

“You can bite,” Bakura muttered, yearning for something a little rougher. 

“When you’re ready.” Kek pulled off his and then Bakura’s shirts.

“Oh, I’m ready baby. You can do whatever you want.” Bakura double finger gunned that time. 

Kek laughed, but shook his head as he bent down and kissed along Bakura’s collarbone. Bakura squirmed beneath the light press of lips dancing across his body. Kek trailed up to Bakura’s throat, sucking, but not hard enough. Bakura raked his nails down Kek’s shoulder to entice him, but Kek didn’t change his pace. Bakura growled in frustration. 

“Quite being so soft and fuck me!” 

“Glad to hear the enthusiasm, but I want to make sure you’re ready this time.”

“I _am_ ready.”

“Okay, then _I_ need to get ready.” Kek snorted, grabbing Bakura’s face and kissing him. 

Bakura moaned into the kiss. He looked at Kek, really looked at him. His face looked… nervous. Bakura blushed from the sight of it. He could tell Kek wanted to do a good job without making Bakura uncomfortable. He broke their kisses so he could look away. 

“Want a quick bath first?”

“Bakura, I-”

“I won’t rush things like last time, but if we’re going to take our time, well, I did work today, so I don’t want to smell like pork ramen.”

“I think you smell tasty.” Kek grinned. 

Bakura gave him a playful bite on his shoulder before scrambling out from beneath him and starting the bathtub. They both stood in the shower at once. It was a tight fit, but they only soaped up enough to make sure they were clean and then they stepped out of the cubicle and into the bathtub. Bakura slid onto Kek’s lap again, allowing their erections to slip together a moment before settling into place. He grabbed Kek’s face and dragged his lips across Kek’s. Kek’s arms slid around Bakura’s waist, fingers searching up and down Bakura’s back. 

Bakura arched and Kek took the opportunity to suck at the junction between Bakura’s collarbone and neck. Bakura sighed, relaxing in both the warm water and Kek’s arms. They trailed their wet fingers across each other’s arms and stomachs, exploring their thighs and and ribs and chests. Bakura’s initial impatience sloughed away as the moment seized him. Their kisses grew rich and silken as they grabbed for new areas to knead. 

“I can’t. I can’t. Bakura. I can’t wait anymore.” Kek was panting. “Let’s go back to the bedroom.” 

“Finally.” Bakura leapt out of the tub, grabbing a towel on his way. 

He scrubbed his body until it was dry enough and flung to towel to the ground. Kek was behind him. As soon as they were back in the bedroom, Kek caught him and bit the side of his neck. He pinched Bakura’s nipples, twisting them until Bakura groaned. They tumbled to the cushion. Bakura landed on his hands and knees, but he didn’t care about the position. He just wanted Kek moving inside him. He shoved his ass back, urging Kek to hurry. Kek fumbled with the lube. The bottle slipped from his wet hands twice before he managed to pop the cap. Kek anointed his cock with the clear gel and used his slick finger to tease Bakura’s asshole. 

“Come on. Come on. Come on.” Bakura thrust his ass backwards again. “Get it in.” 

“Stop rushing.” Kek smacked Bakura’s ass before adding more lube to his finger and teasing again. 

“Can’t stop. Too excited.” Bakura thrust his ass backward a third time. 

“Then _you_ top, because _I’m_ nervous as hell right now.” 

“I will next time, but don’t stop.” 

“Promise?”

“Anything, anything, just don’t make me wait any longer,” Bakura whined, gritting his teeth. The anticipation was killing him. 

He heard Kek exhale. Then he felt the rushing thrill of two fingers pushing inside him. Bakura whimpered, relaxing as best he could as Kek prepped him. After a few explorative pumps of Kek’s fingers, Bakura couldn’t take it any longer and started to clench his ass around the digits. He squeezed at the peak of each jab, panting and curling his nails into the blanket below them.

“How does that feel?”

“Good,” Bakura moaned. 

“Do you feel… stretched?” 

“I don’t fucking know! I feel like I want to be fucked.” 

“Okay, but tell me if it hurts.”

“You promised we wouldn’t stop if I said not to.” Bakura glanced over his shoulder. His face fevered with desire.

“Yeah, but at least tell me so I know if the lube helped or not.” Kek lined up behind Bakura’s asshole.

Bakura held his breath. Wanting Kek inside, not knowing what to expect, but fearing it was going to burn as badly as it did two weeks ago in the tub. Kek pushed forward. It still felt fiery, but nothing like the first time. The lube helped him glide all the way in on the first try without having to force it. Bakura gasped, clenching on reflex and then reminding himself to relax. Kek eased back out and then in again. 

“ _Ahh_!” Kek cried out as he slid deep. 

Bakura purred in the back of his throat, encouraging Kek to keep moving. Each time he pressed in, Kek gave another small _ah_ of pleasure. Bakura echoed his cries. _This_ was what he’d wanted two weeks ago. _This. This. Gods this._ He lowered onto his forearms, his limbs trembling with each push of Kek’s cock into his body. 

Kek whimpered and wrapped his hands on each side of Bakura’s hips. He hunched down, kissing Bakura’s spine a few times as he rocked back and forth. Bakura’s hair tickled his face, clinging to the sweat building on his temples and neck. Bakura flung his hair back, laughing when he felt it smack Kek’s face. 

“Ooops.” Bakura muttered in a breathless, gasping voice. 

Kek forgave the incident without comment, too lost in the hitching of his own hips. His nails curled into Bakura’s sides, and his groans grew deeper, and longer. 

“Do- do you need more lube?” Kek asked. 

“Maybe a little?” Bakura groaned with Kek pulled out a moment in order to re-coat, but when he slipped back in, he hit _just right_ and Bakura couldn’t resist throwing back his head and shouting Kek’s name. 

“Did it hurt?”

“Good. More. Please-fucking-dammit!” 

Kek moved a little quicker, and Bakura felt his cock jump with need. Bracing his forehead against one arm, Bakura reached back with his right hand and held his shaft. The solid, thick, feeling of his own hot flesh in his palm sent a shiver of desire racing through Bakura’s gut. 

“Yes. Bakura. Come for me.” Kek leaned forward a bit Bakura's back. He pressed deeply into Bakura’s ass. 

“Fuck,” Bakura moaned. “Oh fuck!” 

He flicked his wrist. His body tensed as orgasm hovered so close that Bakura forgot to breathe. His mouth dropped open and he squeezed his muscles around Kek’s cock even as he squeezed his hand around his own. Then a burst of intense _want_ overcame him. He _wanted, wanted, wanted_ , and then he was taking it. Pleasure, raw and hot. It spread across his body as he came. 

“Gods…” Bakura whispered when it was over, bracing himself as Kek continued to buck behind him. 

“ _Ahhhh, Ahhhhh, Ahhhhhhhh!”_ Kek pressed his forehead between Bakura’s shoulder blades and embraced him. He spasmed, then realxed, but kept his arms locked around Bakura’s body. Once he caught his breath, he squeezed Bakura harder into his arms. “Is that what you wanted?”

“Yes.” Bakura smiled, staring at the ugly, yellow daisies of their “new” thrift store blanket. All the little details of the room seeped back into Bakura’s thoughts. The candles, the music, the cushion to make him comfortable, _lube for crying out loud why didn’t he think of that in the first place_? “Thanks, for the effort.” Bakura blushed, not wanting to say the next thing, but he did anyway. “I like the candles.” 

Kek lay on his side and pulled Bakura into a spooning position and combed his fingers through his hair. “Thanks for the phone. Oh, and congratulations on the raise. I can’t wait to tell Tomoko. She’ll be so happy. I bet she’ll make something delicious to celebrate. You should visit her with me some time.” 

“After I get the noobs trained, I’ll get Saturday nights off, so I could go with you.” 

“Really? You would?”

“Yeah… I would.” Bakura smiled.

“I’d like that.” Kek kissed the back of Bakura’s head. “I love you.” 

“We’re… actually doing this. We’re making this work.” 

“What? The bills?”

“Life.” Bakura laughed, it was tired and tentative, but honest. “This isn’t just about making it through the night anymore. We have real jobs, and some social connections, and…” Bakura twisted so he could face Kek. He held Kek’s face in his hands and kissed the center of Kek’s forehead where he knew he was most sensitive. Kek gasped, digging his fingers into Bakura’s wrists and the sensation overwhelmed him. Bakura smiled again. “And I’ve fallen in love like any other human would. I can’t even remember what it was like anymore, in the Shadow Realm. Every time I try, I just think of holding you.” 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't responded to reviews lately. I'll try to catch up as soon as I can <3

“I’ll break their arms if you tell me to. I’m not joking,” Kek told Tomoko, and he _wasn’t joking_. 

Bakura sat at the table with them and sipped his tea, waiting to see how it’d all play out before intervening. 

“I moved all their bags into the attic. If they want their stuff back, then they’ll pay for the broken window and the damaged furniture. Now drink your tea before it gets cold.” 

“Okay, but I’m staying here until they come back, and if they get rough with you- I’m breaking their arms.” Kek took a sip of tea as he was told to do. 

Bakura and Kek had arrived at Tomoko’s to find her sweeping up broken glass. Apparently her current tenants, two males and a female, had snuck booze into the hostel, gotten wasted, and wrecked the common room- including shattering the window- before taking off in search of “more fun.” Kek was livid. The thought of someone hurting Tomoko brought back that dull glaze to his eye, and Bakura could feel killing intent radiating from his tense body. Tomoko either didn’t notice, or chose not to acknowledge it as she shooed them into the kitchen and made them tea. 

“Let’s talk about something else for a bit. How are you?” 

“I have birds now,” Kek said, although Bakura could almost _see_ the anger crawling just below the surface of his skin, like a thousand scarabs waiting to burst free from a corpse.

“You’ve gathered up quite the family, haven’t you?” Tomoko smiled at him, pulling a stray leaf out of his hair. 

Bakura chuckled as he watched. Outside it was windy, but he hadn’t noticed the leaf blow into the spikes or he would have used it as an excuse to touch Kek’s hair himself. 

“What I really want is a puppy.”

“Oh hell no.” Bakura set his tea cup down. 

“They have some at the shop right now.” Kek gestured with his hands. “Tiny little fluff-balls.” 

“Those tiny fluff balls become great heaping balls of fur that need to run and play outside.”

“I know.” Kek sighed. “Our place really isn’t big enough for a dog to be happy. That’s why I got the birds instead.” 

Bakura groaned. They now had a fish bowl in the kitchen, a bird cage in the living room, and the ferrets in the bedroom. What next? Frogs in the bathtub? Still, he felt bad that Kek _couldn’t_ get a puppy. Bakura ran his fingers through his hair, wondering just when the fuck he’d become so indulgent of _other people’s_ desires instead of focussing solely on his own. Then again, Bakura did have a powerful desire to see Kek happy, so perhaps it was indirectly self-indulgence after all. Bakura liked to think of it _that_ way instead. He felt less soft if he did. 

“Maybe one day you can move into a bigger place,” Tomoko said in her calm, practical voice. 

“Maybe. Bakura did get a raise,” Kek replied. 

“Really? That’s wonderful.”

“Eh.” Bakura shrugged, smirking. “I deserve it.” 

“Don’t be so humble.” Kek snorted. 

The door opened and slammed shut and the muffle of voices reverberated down the hall and to the kitchen. Kek bolted up, jaw tight and lips peeling back in a tight sneer.

“Sit down and finish your tea.” Tomoko stayed calm, drinking from her own cup. 

“I just want to say hi.” Kek grinned.

“Let them come to us.” 

Bakura nodded in approval. He always admired the way Tomoko dealt with problematic tenants. She had the calm of a women in her element who had the upper hand and _knew it_. Also, she was fearless, and Bakura respected that. Kek sat down, his fingers like a vice against the tea cup as he finished it in a begrudging swallow. There was clamoring down the hall and in the common room, before the unruly pack decided to crash into the kitchen as if it were their house.

“Hey! Where’s our-” a pause as the leader of the trio saw Kek and Bakura. He bristled, but his gaze shifted back toward Tomoko. “We can’t find our things.” 

“Oh, I’m sure they’re around.” Tomoko took another sip from her cup. “About the window-”

“What window?”

“The one you broke.”

“We didn’t break no window.” The second guy snickered behind the first. 

Kek bolted up, the chair clanking to the floor below. “You lying bastard!” 

“My chair,” Tomoko said. 

Kek growled, setting the chair back in place and managing to do so without banging it _too hard_ against the floor. 

“Look, just give us our stuff back and we’ll go.” A girl with a pink stripe running through her black hair spoke up from the back. Bakura picked up his phone and sent a text to Kek.

_Don’t kill them. Let's have some fun scarring them._

Kek frowned at his pocket, but checked the message as Tomoko spoke. 

“You didn’t finish your chores, so you owe me for today’s and yesterday’s lodgings on top of replacing the window.” 

Bakura checked Kek’s reply. 

_Your plans suck._

_Indulge me._ Bakura typed back. 

“How about this,” the leader of the three hoodlums grinned. “How ‘bout you bring us our stuff and nothing happens to your other windows.” 

These fools didn’t know the sort of death wish they were courting. It was funny, the extent of their ignorance, so Bakura laughed at them and stood up with slow measured movements. 

“Well, we don’t want anything, or anyone, to _accidentally_ get hurt, so I suppose we have no choice.” 

Kek growled, but he stayed still, watching Bakura to see what he would do. Tomoko frowned, but didn’t say anything. Bakura suspected she was staying quiet mostly so that Kek didn’t take a swing at one of the punks. With his hands shoved into his hoodie pocket, Bakura walked out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. He wished he had the Ring. It’d be far too easy to settle things with the Ring in his possession. A nice friendly Shadow Game solved a lot of problems. The Rod would also be useful, simply tell the fools to pay and leave. Not that Kek would use the Rod in such a practical way. No, that was more Malik’s style. Kek would go right to stabbing people and making a mess of Tomoko’s rugs. 

Near the stairs, Bakura paused, peeking over his shoulder with a coy grin teasing his lips. The three visitors gave Bakura a suspicious look, but Kek licked his lips in anticipation. 

“You know, if we just _give in_ to your demands like this… well, I mean, it’s a little boring that way, isn’t it?” 

“Oh trust us, you can’t handle our kind of excitement.” He pulled out a pocket knife to demonstrate his point. 

Bakura and Kek exchanged amused glances at each other. It was cute, really, how these pathetic worms thought they were dangerous. The high school girls that stopped by for ramen after track practice were more intimidating than the three punks _trying_ to grin as if they understood what went behind the face of a man that grinned after tasting blood. Bakura rested both hands on the banisters of the stair rail. He leaned back a little.

“Any of you like games?” 

“What kind of games?” The girl glared at Bakura. At least she had enough sense to suspect a trap. 

“Oh, I don’t know… any games, really. Pick one. We can bet.”

“Heh, you want to gamble for the old landlady’s money?” 

“Afraid we don’t have much money.” Bakura shrugged. “We’ll have to gamble with something else. Any suggestions?” He asked Kek. 

“Fingers.” Kek wiggled his left hand to show that he had four _and_ a thumb. 

“Mmmm, yes, plenty of fingers between the lot of us. So how about it? Any game you want, winner gets a nice trophy from the loser.” 

“It’s three to two. Why play a game first?” The leader stepped forward.

Slow. So slow. 

Even out of practice, even soft and having spent all his time back in a body learning how to hug instead of kill, Bakura stepped out of the way and managed to yanked the knife from the insect’s hand. Then Kek was on him, twisting his arm behind his back and shoving him to the ground. The other two stood back in shock.

“I don’t think that knife’s sharp enough to take a finger. Bakura, let me see it. I want to at least try.” Kek looked like a hungry wolf hunched over a hare. He was all but drooling. 

“I don’t know.” Bakura toyed with the knife. “He might not be able to reach into his wallet and pay Tomoko back if we cut off _all_ his fingers.” 

“At least let me take the pinky. That shouldn’t slow him down too badly.” 

“If you must.” Bakura passed over the knife. “Don’t get blood on the floor. Your mom wouldn’t appreciate it.” 

“Can I borrow your hoodie?” Kek asked. 

“I suppose.” Bakura slipped out of his gray hoodie. He took his time to stall and hoped the two onlookers would snap out of it and offer the cash before their idiot friend really did lose his finger because- unlike Bakura- Kek wasn’t bluffing. 

He made a show of spreading it out on the floor and then helping Kek hold the tenant down with his arm stretched out and his hand splayed. The guy kicked and screamed, but the struggling didn’t phase Kek as he used his knee to keep the guy pinned down. He was hyper focused on the punk’s fingers

“Please, please stop.” The girl cried, ugly black streaks ran down her cheeks. 

“Sure. No problem.” Bakura shrugged. “Fork up some cash and we’ll stop _and_ give you your luggage.” 

“Fuck you! You ain't getting shit! Aat! Sanoh! Back me up!” 

“No way, dude, these guys are crazy!” The second guy shook his head. “I’m out of here!” He ran down the hall.

“Aat!” The girl screamed. 

“How about you girl? Got any cash?” Bakura tilted his head and batted his lashes at her, sweet as Ryou would have. _Oh please give us money, miss. Wouldn't want to see your friend hurt._

“Don’t gives these assholes nothing, Sanoh!”

“But Gun-”

“Hit them with a vase or something you dumb bitch!” 

“That is no way to speak to a lady.” Bakura tsk-tsked. “Especially a lady who can save you if she'd simply pay us.” 

The girl stood frozen in place and crying. Bakura wanted to grab her by the ear and drag her back to her parents. What the fuck was she doing getting drunk and smashing windows in the first place? These kids were cowards and Bakura scowled at them. 

“Very well, no money, then no mercy. Go ahead and chop off his finger.” 

“Yesss,” Kek hissed, tongue sticking out as he lined up the edge of the blade with the leader’s finger. 

“You’re- you’re not really gonna-” Sonoah covered her mouth with her hands. 

“Apparently we are.” Bakura crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t have any strong urge to stop Kek. Maybe losing a finger would teach them that actions had consequences. 

“Kek. Stop, or I’ll call the police.” Tomoko’s voice was so soft and calm that it didn’t even seem real compared to Sanoh’s crying. 

Kek looked up, confusion and hurt on his face. “But… they threatened to _hurt_ _you!_ ” 

“They can’t do anything. I have their passports with their luggage. They’ll pay me when they want to go home.” 

“Fuck you, you stupid, old hag!”

Kek netted his fingers in the guy’s hair in order to lift up his head and bring it down against the floorboards. “Don’t talk to her like that!” 

“Kek.” Tomoko crouched down beside him, touching his shoulder. 

Kek flinched, looking up at her, still lost, confused, and angry. 

“It’s okay. Let him go.”

“But…” Kek shook his head. “But I want to protect you-”

“I know, but isn’t this why you had to run from home in the first place? Why you and Bakura came to Domino City together from wherever you were before? To leave this sort of thing behind?” 

Bakura stared at the asshole pinned to the ground. Gun deserved it. He really deserved it. Even now, there was no remorse on is face.They were going to regret it if they showed him even a hint of mercy because he was the type of coward that wasn’t smart enough to give up, but nonetheless… Tomoko’s speech managed to ignite something like guilt within Bakura’s chest. Kek turned towards Bakura. Bakura shook his head. 

“Your call.” 

Whatever Kek decided, Bakura was going to back him up. 

“Please! Please let him go!” Sanoh continued to scream. 

Bakura saw the struggle on Kek’s face and he wasn’t sure which side he was rooting for. Part of him wanted to see the blood and the horror as Gun realized he wasn’t invincible, yet a strange part of Bakura was hoping Kek would let him go. Because, if he did, it would prove that they had changed, and there was a strange, seductive appeal to the idea that they really were different from who they used to be. 

Kek smashed the bastard’s face into the floor one more time and then shoved himself to his feet. He pocketed the knife, growled in rage, and yanked at his spikes of hair.

“I can’t believe I’m letting this motherfucker go!”

“I’m proud of you.” Tomoko wrapped her arms around Kek’s waist. 

Bakura grinned at the sight, but his face twisted when he saw the leader of the troop cock back his fist to punch Kek. Bakura tackled the guy back onto the rug and smashed his fist into the jerk’s nose. He got three good hits in before Kek scooped him up and pulled him away. 

Sonah zipped in at that moment, wrapped Gun’s arm around her shoulder, and ran out the door shouting Aat’s name as they ran. 

“He was going to hit you,” Bakura explained since Kek’s back had been turned. 

Kek pressed his forehead against Bakura’s in response. Bakura’s eyes closed. He could feel heat from the center where the Eye of Wadjet used to glow. 

“I should make dinner,” Tomoko sighed. 

“How can you be so calm!” Kek shouted. 

“I deal with these types from time to time.” She waved her hand as they followed her back into the kitchen. 

Tomoko filled the kettle and set it on the old stove before pulling out meat from the fridge. Bakura’s stomach rolled, the acid boiling up to his esophagus. Not because he’d hit Gun- _that_ felt good- but because he knew _he knew he knew he knew_ that they’d be back. He walked up to Tomoko and pulled the chef’s knife from the block. 

“How about I make dinner?” 

“You don’t want to cook.” She laughed at him. “You cook all day long.” 

“I’ll cook and wash the dishes while Kek cleans the floors.”

“Bakura?” She gave him a questioning look. “You don’t have to work for your rent anymore.”

“Actually, we do. We’re going to spend the night. Right Kek?” 

“I’ll set the table.” Kek cleared their tea cups to make room. 

“First off, I don’t need you two babysitting me. I’ve been running this place for decades and I’ve had to replace a lot of windows in that time. Second off- you two can stay in the guest room upstairs. That one comes rent-free, so stop trying to clean my kitchen.” 

“We’ll do it anyway.” Kek shook his head. 

“Why?” She laughed at him. 

“Because we love you.” Kek kissed her forehead. 

Bakura snorted and turned away, suddenly too busy with chopping up pork in order to watch Kek being foolish, but his smile betrayed him. Tomoko also smiled as she cupped Kek’s cheek in her hand. 

“I really am proud of you. I know letting go of that creep wasn’t easy for you.” 

“I’m… surprised at myself more than anything.” Kek chuckled, but it was sad. Bakura resisted the urge to grab and hold Kek to his chest and allowed Tomoko to hug him instead. 

The night passed on eventually, but that didn’t stop Bakura from peeking out the windows every change he got. Tomoko reassured him a dozen times that they were gone, but Bakura's nerves screamed for him to remain vigilant. However, midnight came and left and still there was no sign of Gun and his two lackies. Kek pulled Bakura to bed. Bakura stared towards the window, _waiting_ , but Kek’s arms were warm and _so damn strong_ and Bakura’s body had grown used to long, restful nights wrapped up in Kek’s embrace. Sleep eventually claimed him a little after 2am. 

But Bakura dreamed. He dreamed, for the first time in a long time, about his village burning. Bakura watched, frozen in horror, as his entire village, one by one, was thrown into the vat of liquid gold and melted down. Then, after everyone else, Tomoko was there. The second they pushed her, Bakura jerked up. 

“Kek. Wake up.”

Kek groaned, wrinkling his face as he stirred. Bakura thought he was still suffering from his dream- the air smoldered and the smell of smoke pricked his nose. A flash of orange light beneath the crack in the door caught Bakura’s eye and cold sweat beaded across his body. It was woodsmoke, not the burnt skin and hair from his dream, but woodsmoke from the house burning. 

“Kek!” 

“I’m awake.” Kek rubbed his eyes. 

Bakura was already out of bed and sprinting to the door. The handle burned Bakura’s hand when he grabbed it. He pulled away and growled. 

“Hallway’s on fire.”

“What?” Kek jumped to his feet, realization ignited behind his eyes. “Fuck. Oh, fuck, Mom!”

Kek raced towards the door. Bakura grabbed him and held him in place.

“Kek! The hallway is on fire! If you open the door more smoke is going to pour in and you _still_ won’t be able to get out!”

“Let me go! I have to find Tomoko!” 

“The window, you fool!” 

Kek stopped, twisting to look out the window. He shoved Bakura aside and ran to the window instead of the door. Bakura chased after him, reaching the window first and sliding it up before Kek punched out the glass in a panic. They pushed at the screen until it tumbled to the lawn below and climbed out. A tree branch reached out to them as if offering a hand and Bakura grabbed it and pulled himself up so he could crawl towards the trunk. Kek felt around the window, seeking anything he could use for a grip or foot hold in order to climb around to the other side of the house where Tomoko’s room sat. There was nothing, and with a enraged wail, Kek jumped and caught the branch so he could follow Bakura. 

The moment Bakura’s feet hit the ground he hurtled forward and turned the side of the house. His feet stumbled as he came to a stop.

It was worse. Much worse than Bakura imagined. That entire corner of the house was in flames.

“No! No!” Kek wailed. He ran towards the flames.

“Kek- no-” Bakura screamed it- he meant to scream it, but his words were hushed and broken. 

Kek didn’t stop. He ran to the front door and flung it open. 

“Kek!” Bakura screamed. “Kek!” He looked inside the front doorway and saw nothing but black, and it was a black that terrified him. Not the Shadow Realm. He was familiar with that darkness, but smoke? Smoke. Smoke made him six years old. Smoke made him helpless. “Keeeek!” Bakura screeched, grinding his teeth to keep the tears from spilling. The weight of the past crushed him. He was that helpless child again. The one that didn't do anything to save his family.

“Kek!”

Bakura felt himself fill with _heka_ , in a way he’d never known before. Diabound rustled in his soul, just below the surface of his consciousness. He knew he shouldn’t, but who cared? Who cared? Kek was lost in the black and Tomoko was trapped in flames.

Bakura summoned Diabound. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to a con out of state this weekend, so I figured it'd be better to post this early so I don't have to stress about it tomorrow when I'm packing. I'm sure no one will mind the day early chapter :D

Bakura summoned Diabound. 

Diabound dashed through the burning walls of the house. He searched Tomoko’s room first, the smoke and fire nothing to the ka. Bakura kept his eyes closed, perceiving through Diabound’s senses instead of his own. Flames swallowed everything. The ceiling was partially caved in near the door, and the smoke billowed like storm clouds around the furniture. The bed was empty and missing its top quilt, but Diabound noticed the bathroom door was shut. He found Tomoko curled in a corner of the mostly undamaged half bath connected to her room. She had soaked the towels and shoved them under the door to keep the smoke out, but too much time had passed and it still managed to seep through the vent and the door-cracks. She was unconscious from smoke inhalation, but wrapped in her wet quilt and unburned. Diabound scooped her up and carried her outside, placing her in Bakura’s arms.

Then Diabound disappeared through the billowing smoke again. Kek was fighting his way through the flames in an attempt to climb the stairs. Diabound wrapped his huge arms around Kek and pulled him outside. Kek punched and screamed, but Diabound dragged him despite Kek’s cursing and flailing. His hands and arms were blistered, and red blotches decorated his skin. Still, he shrieked and wailed and fought until he saw Bakura, and saw Tomoko- alive. 

“Bakura?” Tears dug ravines through the soot on Kek’s cheeks. 

Bakura nodded. He couldn’t speak, but he nodded, and Kek flung his arms around Bakura and Tomoko both, hugging with his arms, but keeping his burnt hands away from them. The stood there a moment, shaking. Another crack broke through the air, the same as when they were camping. Bakura looked at Diabound. The scales on his serpentine tail shimmered white, brighter and more pearl-like than they had been even during his life in Egypt. 

Bakura heard muttering and awed gasps from the gathering crowd surrounding them. He pulled Diabound back, before people could grab their cell phones. Moments later, the fire department and paramedics arrived. They blasted water onto the burning house and laid Tomoko on a stretcher before securing her into the ambulance. Another medic wrapped bandages on Kek’s hands and arms and shins. Someone tried to look at Bakura, but he snarled, and insisted he was fine. He only allowed himself to go to the hospital because Kek was going and he wanted to make sure _Kek_ was okay, but he sat in the waiting room instead of seeing a doctor himself. 

He… didn’t remember much once it was over. He sat in a chair with a TV playing news somewhere above and to his right, but his mind was gone. The fire of that night and the fire of 3,000 year ago replayed in his mind over, and over, and over, blurring together, over, and over, and over…

It was hell. 

They said hell was repetition, right? Well, it was hell, and it would not stop until a bandaged arm hooked around him and pulled him into a broad chest. 

“Kek?” Bakura looked up, snapping back to himself. “How’s Tomoko?” 

“She’s going to be okay.” Tears ran down Kek’s face as he said it, as if the good news was as horrific to him as bad news would have been. 

“Good.” Bakura closed his eyes, sinking against Kek’s body heat. 

“She wants to see you.” Kek sniffed. 

“Why?” Bakura blinked his eyes back open. 

“I told her you saved her.”

“You shouldn’t have done that. People shouldn’t know-” 

“Don’t worry.” Kek shrugged. “When the fire department asked if I’d seen the creature some people were talking about, I told them our duel disks were in the house when it caught fire and that it must have been a hologram of one of our cards.” 

“Heh, that’s not the first time Kaiba’s hyper-realistic holograms have been used as a cover for weird things that happen in Domino City.” 

“Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that if it wasn’t for you- both Tomoko and I would be dead.”

“Shut up. Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.” Bakura’s fingers curled around Kek’s singed shirt. 

“Bakura? You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

Kek’s fingers combed through Bakura’s hair, and traced his face, lifting it up so that he had to look at Kek. Bakura sniffed, holding his breath. If he didn’t breathe- he wouldn’t cry. If he didn’t breath- he wouldn’t cry. 

“Bakura, we’re okay-”

“It’s-” Bakura shook his head. He realized that Kek didn’t know. They’d grown close, but Bakura had never told him about his village in detail. Bakura’s words, when he managed to force them out, were a soft murmur. “Pharaoh set my village on fire.” 

“What?” Kek searched Bakura’s face, holding it like Bakura’s cheeks were porcelain. 

Bakura lowered Kek’s hands, but held them, careful of the bandages, but unable to let go. He spoke in shaky spurts. “Pharaoh. Set my village. On fire.” Bakura shook his head. “Not exactly. It was his brother. They needed sacrifices… for the Items.”

“The Items- oh fuck.” Kek massaged the bridge of his nose while his other hand crushed Bakura’s fingers because he held so tightly. “That’s why- oh _fuck_.” 

“Yeah, I… I was dreaming about it, and then I woke up, and- it was as good as real again.” Bakura shook hard enough for his teeth to chatter. “I just want to go home, Kek.” 

“Okay.” Kek stood up, helping Bakura to his feet. “Let’s say goodbye, and then we’ll go.” 

Bakura nodded and allowed himself to be lead down the hallway and to Tomoko’s room. She lay in bed, connected to a heart monitor, IV, and oxygen, but her eyes were alert and she grinned the moment she saw them entering the room. 

“There you are. I heard you’re the reason we all got out in time.” 

“I thought you might die-” He broke, crumbled. Bakura’s voice sounded like gravel as he dropped to the side of her bed, pressed his face against her chest, and wept every tear he’d been holding back. 

Not only the ones from that night, but the ones from 3,000 years ago. His dream flashed in his thoughts. Tomoko dropping down, down, down, into a vat of gold and melting with everyone else. She combed through his hair, whispering _shhhh, shhhh_ , and _it’s alright_. Kek laid a hand on Bakura’s back. Even with Kek’s skin bandaged, Bakura could feel the heat from Kek’s palm soaking through his shirt and to his skin. 

“This is stupid.” Bakura pulled away, using the sleeve of his shirt to scrub the tears off of his cheeks. “You’re fine. I shouldn’t be such a fool.” 

“It makes me very happy,” Tomoko said. 

“That I’m a fool?” A little grin teased the corner of Bakura’s mouth despite his red-streaked eyes. 

“That I have two sons that care so much about me.” She smiled.

Bakura cried again. 

***

He waited until they were both home before asking the question that had been nagging him, although he knew the answer already. 

“It was arson. Wasn’t it?”

Kek nodded. “They found gas cans around the building.”

“We should have cut off their thumbs. They couldn’t have used a lighter without thumbs.” 

“They’d better hope the cops find them before I do.” Kek shook his head. 

“Are you going to hunt them down?” Bakura asked. 

“Shouldn’t I?” Kek looked at him. “Tomoko told me not to. I don’t want to disappoint her, but…”

“But…” Bakura echoed. 

“We did it her way, and look what happened?” 

Bakura flinched, hearing his thoughts spoken out loud.

“I want to find them. I want them to scream like I was screaming as the flesh burnt from my hands.” Kek stared at the bandages. 

“Okay. Let’s go look for them,” Bakura said, but he felt hollow inside. 

“No.” Kek shook his head. “Let’s take a bath.”

“If we’re going to cover ourselves in blood, then we should take a bath afterward.” 

“We’re going to take a bath and get some sleep. You need to relax and we’re both exhausted.” 

“I don't understand. If you want to kill them, why aren't we hunting them down?” 

Kek closed his eyes. “I told Tomoko to give me one good reason not to kill them myself, and she reminded me that all their things were in the house. Don't you see, Bakura? They were angry, and they were destructive, but they burnt their own things with Tomoko's.”

“Serves them right.” Bakura's jaw ached from grinding his teeth. “Fucking morons.” 

“But weren't we the same way? And the only place it ever got us was the Shadow Realm.” Kek paced with his fists balled. “Diabound is changing again. He gets brighter every time you let an emotion other than anger guide your actions.” 

Kek stopped, watching Bakura with a careful gaze. “What will happen if we retaliate? Will he get dark again? It upset you… when you saw him like that. They're not worth corrupting Diabound. And what about my ka? I've been hoping… that mine is changing too, and I don't want to go back to being a shadow. I never want to go back to being as empty as I used to be. So I'll let the cops handle it. It's not like those assholes can go very far- they set their passports on fire.” 

“Are you sure about this?” Bakura held both of Kek’s shoulders, staring in his eyes. “Because whatever you want to do- I’ll be beside you, so don’t worry about me.” 

“I… I’ve been thinking about it all night, and I’m not really sure which way is best, but I want to give Tomoko’s way one more chance.” 

“Come on.” Bakura kissed Kek’s forehead. “It's going to be hard to shower with those bandages. Let me clean you up instead.”

“Bakura, is this…right? Am I making the right choice? It doesn’t feel like I’m doing the right thing. Murdering feels like the right thing. They could have killed her- they should die screaming in agony. How is that not _right_?” Kek searched Bakura’s face for an answer.

“It’s not a matter of right or wrong, it’s deciding what you want to do.” Bakura took Kek’s hands, careful of the bandages. 

“Tomoko said she could live without her house, but if I ended up, hurt or in jail, then she’d be sad, and I don’t want to ever make her sad.” Kek exhaled and rested his forehead against Bakura’s scalp.

“If that’s the case, then you made the right choice, Kek.” 

Bakura led him to the bathroom and helped him undress before stripping off his own clothes. The bath filled while Bakura stepped in the shower by himself and scrubbed the smoke smell out of his hair with two washings. With a towel wrapped around his waist, he grabbed a washcloth and wiped Kek’s body down without wetting the bandages. Even after the night they’d had, it was still nice to stare at all the slopes and curves of Kek’s body as he massaged circles of hot water against Kek’s skin. 

“Leave your hands wrapped. Everything else we can redress after the bath. I’ll wash your hair in the tub.” Bakura grabbed the shampoo and dropped his towel. 

It took a few minutes for Kek to climb in, avoiding his hands, and then settle down in a way that kept all his bandages dry. Bakura sat on the lip of the tub with his legs on either side of Kek. He cupped warm water into his hands and wet down one golden spike at a time. When Kek’s hair was damp all the way through, Bakura lathered the shampoo into the strands, taking extra time to knead his scalp.

“This… is nice.” Kek said with a soft, half moan of relief. 

Bakura worked lather into Kek’s hair long enough to make sure any lingering traces of smoke wouldn’t stick before rinsing all the bubbles away. Afterward, he crawled into Kek’s lap like he always did after a bad day and lay his head against Kek’s chest. The trembling came unbidden. Bakura held his breath again, but couldn’t stop himself from shaking. Kek wrapped an arm around Bakura’s shoulders, again avoiding touching with his hand, but crushing Bakura with the strength of his arm. 

“No one’s hurt,” Kek whispered.

Bakura nodded, but the shaking didn’t cease. 

“She has insurance, and can rebuild the hostel.” 

Again Bakura nodded, and again his body continued to tremble though he hated it. Tears streamed from his fate, thought he hated that even more. Insurance. That was something they definitely didn’t have in Kul Elna. Then again, he might not have cared that his villaged burned half so much (even without the concept of insurance) had his family survived. He felt Kek’s body tense.

“Bakura, if you keep crying like this, I might go kill those punks after all.” 

“Don’t let go!” Bakura shouted, surprising even himself at the outburst. It wasn't to stop Kek from murdering. There was no morality in the plea. Just the selfish, _desperate,_ need to be held. He needed to be held. _He needed to be held._ “Let me stay like this, oh gods, don't let go.” 

He twined his arms around Kek’s neck, locking them together, and hid his face against Kek’s body. He did want to find them and kill them. He wanted it with every shred of his soul. But he needed to be crushed by Kek’s arms. Until the trembling went away, until the memories ceased, until the morning came and chased off the shadows clinging to the borders of his mind, Bakura needed to be smashed so tightly against Kek that not even the gods could separate them.

He did not want to feel the grief.

 _He did not want to_ _feel the grief_.

But for the first time in his existence, he could _afford to feel it_. It was okay if he sat in the tub and cried in Kek’s arms. He didn’t lose everyone this time. _He’d saved them._ Diabound wasn’t strong enough to send Atem to a second death- but his ka had been strong enough to save Kek and Tomoko, and that was something. That was real. The Shadows gave too sweetly when they tempted, yet this was bitter relief and bitter grief. The night had been hell, but now he was in Kek’s arms grieving, and Bakura knew he’d never question again if their existence was real or not.

“I won’t let go,” Kek whispered.

They sat there for several minutes before Bakura pushed himself up so he could step out of the tub and help Kek. He dried them both and rebandaged Kek’s arms and legs. They slipped into boxers and cocooned themselves in their blankets so they could spoon together on the world’s ugliest couch. Mukhfi curled around Bakura’s feet, and he laughed when the racoon dog’s whiskers tickled his ankle. 

“Bakura, are you going to be okay?” Kek asked, his voice thin.

“I always get by somehow.” It was supposed to sound jovial; it sounded tired. 

“I mean _actually okay_.” 

“I think I’m more okay now than I’ve been in thousands of years.” That sentence, also, sounded tired, but it was sincere. 

They fell asleep knotted together. Bakura woke up and panicked when he couldn’t feel Kek beside him, but Kek’s voice drifted from the kitchen, so Bakura exhaled and relaxed.

“Are you sure? But are you sure? We could buy an air mattress- No, I keep telling you it’s no trouble. We don't even use the bedroom. Yes… but are you _sure_? Okay… yes, fine. And you’re sure you’re okay?... Damn the doctor, how do you feel? All right. Yes. Yes. Okay. I will. Love you, Mom.”

Bakura smiled, small at first, but then it stretched across his face. The light through the window was bright. Bakura figured he’d slept until afternoon. It struck Kek’s hair and made it flash gold. He set his cell down on the counter and went back to fussing with a pot on the stove.

“Whatcha making?” Bakura called from the couch. 

Kek jerked his head toward Bakura’s voice and grinned when he saw Bakura awake. “Oden and dango. I’m starving.”

“Me too. Diabound uses a lot of energy.” 

“I’m making a huge pot.”

“Have you fed everyone else?” Bakura sat up, scratching his hair. He’d gone to sleep with it a little damp and his spikes were worse than ever. 

“Yeah, but you can give Mukhfi a treat if you want.” 

Bakura shuffled to the kitchen, pulling a chilled bottle of sake from the fridge and pouring it into a small glass. He set the saucer onto the cushions and watched it disappear. They always appeared in the sink on their own- empty of course- so they never worried about the disapearing glasses. He went back to the kitchen, and Kek grabbed him, pulling him close and swallowing Bakura’s lips. 

Bakura grunted, but leaned back in Kek’s arms, allowing himself to be supported as Kek dipped him a little lower for a better kissing angle. It was hard to stand back up once Kek broke the kiss, so Bakura supported himself against the kitchen counter. 

“What was that for?” Bakura wiped the corner of his mouth dry, yearning for more. 

“Because I love you. You literally pulled me out of a burning building with magic like some sort of fucking fairy tale hero.”

“Ironic, no?” Bakura circled his arms around from behind Kek, kissing the loop of the ankh scar. “I love you, too.” 

Kek laughed, little snatches at first, but they grew to a roar. He grabbed Bakura and swung him in the air like he did the first time Bakura ever said it. They were both laughing, and when Kek lowered Bakura back to the ground, Bakura swooped his mouth closer and kissed Kek again. They didn’t stop until the broth boiled over the edge of the pot and hissed against the burner. 

“Shit.” Kek spun around and turned down the heat, stirring their lunch. 

“After lunch, let me rub lotion on your back.” Bakura smirked. 

“Yeah?” Kek’s tongue darted out between his lips, knowing exactly what Bakura had in mind. 

“Yeah,” Bakura agreed, licking his own lips to further entice Kek. 

“Sounds good. I’ll owe you a few scalp massages once the bandages come off.” 

“I will hold you to that.” 

“And I will hold you to me.” Kek made good on his threat, using his forearms instead of his hands to pull Bakura close. 


	19. Chapter 19

Kek was on his belly on top of the blankets and cushion in their room. Bakura had lit the candles and waited for their subtle fragrance to fill the air before he’d told Kek to take off his clothes. The blinds were turned just a crack, not enough for the neighbors to see them, but enough for bars of light to spill across the carpet and over Kek’s back. Bakura twisted his hair into a quick braid before straddling Kek’s ass. Kek’s breath hitched when Bakura’s thighs settled on each side of Kek’s hips, and Bakura grinned at the reaction. 

Bakura had the lotion beside them. Filling his palm, he warmed the cream between his hands before painting it over Kek’s scars. Kek sighed, then moaned and bowed his back into Bakura’s gentle caresses. Bakura didn’t rush or press his hands more than a touch into Kek’s back. He waited until Kek’s greedy skin drank in the lotion before adding more. Only then did he knead his fingers into Kek’s muscles. 

“ _Oh_!” Kek twitched when Bakura hit a knot. 

“Did it hurt?”

“Mmmm, a little,” Kek purred, clearly wanting more. 

Bakura grinned and shook his head, giving into the urge to satisfy Kek’s craving and pushing the blade of his palm deep into Kek’s lower back muscles. 

“How about this?” Bakura asked, his voice rough, seductive. 

“ _Yes_!” Kek tossed back his head, gasping and lightly rutting against the cushion. 

Bakura grew hard watching, _feeling_ , Kek writhe beneath him. He kneaded up Kek’s back, grabbing his right shoulder and then his left, focusing on his neck and spine, and trailing down again to Kek’s tailbone. 

“ _Hhhmmn_ , Bakura,” Kek whined, begging for more than a massage although he only said Bakura’s name.

Bakura reached over again, but instead of grabbing the lotion, he grabbed the lube sitting beside it. They were both familiar enough with the process by now that Bakura used two fingers from the start. He nudged himself between Kek’s legs, spreading them out wider so he could stuff Kek with his fingers. Kek hitched backward into the thrusts, happy little coos escaping his mouth each time Bakura brushed against his prostate. Impatience gnawed at Bakura. He licked his lips like a starved mutt, his cock twitching and eager for Kek’s body heat. 

“Bakura, fuck me!” Kek shoved his ass up and back. He spread his legs wider before hitching back again. “Fuck. Me.” 

“Yes,” Bakura answered, slipping his hand free and coating his cock in lube.

Bakura guided himself closer, sighing when his tip pushing against Kek’s asshole. He could feel Kek’s body twitch in anticipation. Bakura eased in. His mouth dropped open and his eyes lidded as euphoria wrapped him up in a warm embrace. Once inside, Bakura lowered himself so he could kiss the carving of Ra etched into Kek's skin. His hips shifted back and forth, just enough to make them both crave more although even his small movements were damn near overwhelming because of how good they felt. 

“I love you,” Bakura whispered against Kek’s scars, kissing down the stem of the ankh. “I love you.”

“ _Ah! Ah! Ah!_ ” Kek screamed with each thrust, his thighs shuddering and his body clenching tightly around Bakura’s girth. “ _Bakura_!”

Bakura shot forward, a deeper, harder thrust. He pushed himself higher so he could bite down on Kek’s trapezius muscle and shoulder. Bakura only stopped biting to gasp when a shiver ran through him. He slowed down, still learning how to control himself enough to make it last longer than a few minutes. Bakura pressed his forehead against Kek’s back and eased his pace to a tender, steady rhythm. 

His thoughts were filled with the sensation of Kek’s body, how Kek felt beneath him as he rocked back and forth. Bakura’s skin tingled everywhere he touched Kek, whether it be his arms wrapped around Kek’s torso or where their legs brushed together. They both whimpered in pleasure, soft, quiet cries between desperate, snatched breaths. Bakura stole each inhale with more relish than he ever stole gold. Gold never brought him this sort of pleasure. Another shudder wracked through Bakura and he fumbled towards Kek’s cock, squeezing, stroking, tugging with great need but no grace. 

“Oh fuck. _Ah!_ Bakura, gods.” Kek bucked into Bakura’s clumsy fist. 

The way Kek moved, wild, wanton, urgent, made the shuddering in Bakura’s belly spark. Bakura’s strokes stopped as his own orgasm seized his body. Afterward, he sighed, his body heavy.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” Kek begged, hitching forward to try and make Bakura’s hand move again.

Bakura blinked, coming back to his senses. He slid his fist up and down Kek’s cock, slow for only a moment to tease and then fast and tight with each flick of his wrist. Cock just hard enough to still penetrate, Bakura bucked into Kek’s ass, pushing deep and staying sheathed, pushing, pushing, pushing into Kek as he stroked. He feared he wouldn't stay hard long enough, but with a final cry, Kek spilled out over the blanket below them.

They scooted off to the side and lay in each other’s arms. Bakura was lost in a warm, hazy thought space that he usually avoided, but no guards were going to ambush him in his own bedroom, so Bakura allowed his mind to drift as he curled against Kek’s chest. 

“No back talk from you. You wait until after my nap.”

Bakura opened his mouth to shout he hadn’t said anything, but realized Kek was lecturing the ferrets as they chattered and clicked the bars of their cage, wanting out to play.

“You’re talking to the fucking ferrets.” Bakura chuckled, closing his eyes again. 

“Who else would I be talking to?” Kek asked.

“I wondered.” 

“I guess there _is_ something I should say to you.” 

“What?” Bakura opened one eye, curious. 

“I love you, too.” 

“Oh.” Bakura hid his face against Kek’s body. “Heard that, did you?” 

“You could whisper it halfway across the world. I’d hear it.” 

Bakura snorted, as if he wasn’t blushing. He grabbed Kek’s wrist. “How are your hands?” 

“I hope they scar. It’ll be pretty cool.”

“But how do they feel?”

“They sting.” Kek grinned. 

“I’ll change your wrappings before bed tonight.” Bakura kissed the skin below Kek’s wrist where there weren’t any bandages. 

Kek’s eyes lidded. “And after that?”

“Oh? After that?” Bakura smirked, leaning down and nibbling Kek’s throat. “After that, we’ll have to wait and see what I have planned for you.” 

“Watch out. I might spoil your plans and spring my own.” 

“Sounds exciting.” Bakura chuckled against Kek’s skin. 

***

Given the circumstances, Bakura could have called into work the next day but both he and Kek decided to go. They finally had pantry staples stocked in their cupboards, and toiletries, and cleaning supplies. They had cell phones- Kek kept calling Tomoko to make sure she was okay- and they were mostly saved up for a TV and gaming system, and Bakura didn’t want to use that money to make up for missed days at work, so he walked into Granny’s restaurant at his usual time Monday morning. 

He felt fine. Thought he was fine. Sure. Fine. Totally fine. He wasn’t on another vengeance bender, and that meant that he was fine, didn’t it? Better than fine- reformed- yeah? But as he was pulling out his cutting board and knife, he caught Granny in his peripheral vision and he dropped the knife, grabbed her, and hugged her before he realized what a fucking fool he was. 

“Bakura? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Bakura jerked away, grabbing mushrooms so he could de-stem them. “Fuck. I don’t know.” 

“I know you. Something happened this weekend. Tell me or I’ll make the good coffee and steal the story from you.” 

“Remember the hostel I stayed in when I started working here?”

“Hmm.” 

“We were visiting and some tenants set it on fire.”

“An accident?” Granny narrowed her eyes, asking only to thread the story along. Bakura could see that she already suspected the truth. 

“No. They were mad because she wanted them to pay for a window they’d broken.” 

“Do you need to take the day off?”

“No.” Bakura shook his head. 

Now more than ever he did not want to sit in his apartment. Alone at home, Bakura would stare into space and the loop of memories would spin out of control and consume him.

“I’d rather stay busy.” Bakura paused his cuts. “I… don’t tell people this, but… that’s how my parents died.” 

Granny reached up, resting her hand on Bakura’s shoulder. 

“I’m fine.” Bakura returned to cutting. 

“I’ll make her a care package for you to give to her.”

“Okay.” Bakura nodded. He looked up. “Hey, Granny?”

“Hmm?”

“If someone comes in here and causes trouble, you’ll let me stab them, right?”

“Depends.” She snorted. “Will the health department find out? I don’t want the restaurant closing down because someone found an ear in their soup.” 

“I’ll make sure the grind the meat finely then!” Bakura laughed like a hyena. 

The exchange was liberating, somehow. Granny made coffee, black for him, “good” for her, and the day went back to normal. They stayed steady and Bakura was glad to see Chie when she showed up later in the afternoon. Bakura had just finished one last order and he started carrying them out as Granny seated new customers. 

“Hey, I’m going to hand this out and take a lunch. Can you cover me?” 

“You’re so lazy.” Chie tied an apron around her waist. 

She was competent with a knife, so Bakura had been showing her how to cook. He wasn’t a good teacher, but she seemed to understand his “throw it all together until it looks right” method of explaining the dishes.

Bakura froze mid-step as two more people walked in and sat in the center of the restaurant. He set down the tray and crouched behind the front counter. 

“Bakura? What the hell’s wrong with you?” Chie called from the kitchen as she grabbed the next ticket. 

“Shhh.” Bakura hissed. “Don’t use my name.”

“Kay. Yo, Rumpelstiltskin, what the hell’s wrong with you?” 

“Just. Shut. Up. Okay? I just saw some kids I used to pick on in high school, and I don’t want to deal with them right now.” Bakura growled, still hiding. 

“Whatever.” Chie dropped the topic, unfortunately Granny had noticed/heard him. 

The old woman marched up to Bakura, pulled him up by the ear, and dragged him right toward Ryou and Yugi’s table. Bakura wasn’t even sure how she knew exactly which two people he’d been talking about, maybe because they weren't regulars. In any case, she shoved Bakura into the empty seat at their table and smacked Bakura upside the head. 

“What the fuck, Granny?” Bakura snarled at her.

“You’re on your break, right? Plenty of time to talk to them. You should apologize if you used to pick on them.” She walked off. 

Bakura twisted in his chair to shout at her as she walked away. “I didn’t want to apologize! I wanted to avoid the problem!” Bakura turned back around and smirked. “Whuddup? It’s me, ya boi.” 

“Bakura?” Yugi’s eyes weren’t the wide shocked orbs that Bakura had expected. Quite the opposite, actually. They were narrowed with suspicion. 

Bakura shot Yugi with his finger. “Bingo.” 

“You _are_ the Domino City Angel.” Ryou whispered. He looked excited. 

Bakura tilted his head and frowned. “If that’s some pet name the media gave to a jewel thief or serial killer, I swear it’s not me. I’ve actually been working this time around.” He gestured to his dashi and mirin stained apron to prove his point. 

“It’s this.” Ryou pulled out his phone and showed Bakura a video.

Bakura’s stomach dropped. The clip showed Diabound right as he’d regained some of his former brightness. At least it wasn’t a news site, Bakura noticed the clip was from some sort of paranormal conspiracy blog. 

“Sorry, don’t know her.” Bakura snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Bakura, we’re not stupid.” Yugi shook his head. “Ryou still has all the game pieces from the RPG. That creature is Diabound, the Thief King’s ka.” 

“The duel disk malfunction story was good enough for the media, but any serious duelist knows there’s no card like that.” Ryou shook his head. 

“That still doesn’t explain how you found me.” Bakura frowned, but Ryou smiled.

“That was easy. People have been telling me for months that I have a twin working here. We came by yesterday and I told the owner I was your cousin, but you weren’t here.”

“Hmph, _that’s_ how she knew. Look.” Bakura gnashed his teeth. “I can’t just say ‘gee guys, I sure am sorry for trying to destroy the world and set a demon on everyone,’ but I’ve been back for almost a year and I haven’t done shit wrong- and I’m not going to. I’m just trying to get by, okay?”

“We believe you.” Yugi nodded. 

“You… do?” Bakura’s face twisted. He was telling the truth, of course, but that didn’t mean they should accept it. 

“Bakura, the evidence is right here.” Ryou tapped his phone screen. “They said the monster rescued the owner of the building, and someone else. That’s why they nicknamed it the Domino City Angel, because a creature with huge white wings saved those people, but Bakura- that was you.”

“Yeah, I know that was me,” Bakura mumbled. “So what?”

“So? You saved people,” Yugi said.

“And look at the video. Your ka is purging itself of Zorc’s influence.”

“I know that, too.” 

“Well, there’s a story behind that, isn’t there?” Ryou leaned forward enough to make Bakura lean back. His maroon eyes were brighter than the betas filling the jars and bowls around the restaurant. “How are you back? What made you give up vengeance?” Ryou shook his head. “No, even more than that- what made you _want it_ to begin with? I spent most my life with you, but I don’t know anything about you.” 

“It’s better you don’t.” Bakura frowned, toying with the bamboo leaves between them. 

“That’s bullshit.” Ryou smacked the table.

“Hey, watch your fucking language. This is a family restaurant.” Bakura pointed at Ryou in warning, repressing a grin.

“But, Bakura, you just-”

“He knows what he did.” Ryou narrowed his gaze. “You put me through hell, and for what? Don’t I deserve to know? Who are you? How are you connected to the Items? How did you come back?” 

Bakura set his hands on the table and stared at them. “My break’s almost up.”

“I’m not going away, Bakura. I’ll be back, every day, until I get some answers.”

Bakura’s head shot up. “You can’t just harass me at work like this. Dammit, some of us don’t have a bank account from daddy to pay the rent and we have to actually work for it?” 

“Bakura, you don’t know what Ryou’s been through since the Items were buried.” Yugi scowled. “Don’t you dare judge him. I will deck you if you do.”

“Okay, fair enough. I still can’t have you guys stalking me. Just leave me alone. I’m not hurting anyone. Isn't that good enough?” 

“I can’t… I can’t.” Ryou shook his head. “The questions are gnawing my brain like worms through a corpse. They always have, but especially after-” Ryou shot Yugi a look. Yugi shrugged. 

“After what?” 

“Nothing.” Ryou looked away.

“How about we duel you for the answers?” Yugi asked.

“Like I’m dumb enough to duel _you_.” Bakura snorted. He glanced at Ryou and saw his eyes were glassy. Bakura sighed. “Look, it’s really too much to go into while I’m at work, but, maybe next Saturday. It’s going to take longer than a day, if you want to know everything.”

“How about this.” Ryou caged his fingers. “We play an RPG, and before we start each week, you give me a piece to your puzzle.”

“That’s a horrible metaphor.” Bakura untied and tied his shoe for something to do.

“But are they acceptable terms?”

“There’s one more thing you should know. I have a roommate.”

“Do they like RPGs?” Yugi asked. “The more people that play, the more fun.” 

“Yugi, if you can stop thinking about games for like five minutes. That’d be great, thanks.” Bakura rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“It’s Marik’s other half, isn’t it?” Ryou asked.

“What?” Yugi started.

“How’d you know?” Bakura let down his hair and twisted it back up in a tighter bun, doing anything to fidget instead of think about how annoying the conversation was. 

Ryou waved his phone again. “The article with the video mentioned that the second person pulled from the fire had hair like a super saiyan, and since _you’re_ out of the Shadow Realm, it was a logical guess that he escaped as well.” 

“I don’t know if either of you kept in touch with Marik, but please don’t tell him. It’ll only upset him, and we specifically stayed away from him to prevent that.”

“Did you just say please?”

“Not exactly on topic, Yugi, but yes. Can’t seem to get the stupid manners out of my head from sharing headspace with Ryou.” Bakura ground his teeth again.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Ryou started giggling. He pressed both hands against the scars on his chest that Bakura knew were beneath his shirt. “I can’t stop saying _fuck_ , and it helps knowing you got stuck with _please_.” 

“Don’t worry, Bakura. We won’t tell Marik-”

“Until after you give us all the information we want.” Ryou lifted his head, interrupting Yugi. “Then we’ll decide what our best course of action is.”

Bakura snorted again, a little proud of his old host. He slid his phone across the table and let Ryou and Yugi program their numbers into his phone book. 

“His name is Kek. He’s a completely different person from Marik now, so don’t make assumptions.” Bakura stormed back to the kitchen.

He had five more minutes before his lunch ended, but he prepped vegetables like he tended to do when he didn’t want to think about things. 

“I made you some ramen. Sit down and eat real quick. I got the orders for a little longer.” Chie pointed to a bowl.

“Thanks,” Bakura muttered, sitting on his favorite stool and eating the pork strips first.

“Did you apologize?” Granny asked, sliding a cup of tea instead of coffee at him. 

“Kinda.”

“Feel better?”

“Not really, and now those idiots want to play Monster World at my place Saturday.”

“You play Monster World?” Chie slammed her hands on the prep table, eyeing Bakura. It was the first time he’d ever seen her truly expressive.

“Used to. Guess I am again.”

“Can I play? Ko and I wanted to start a campaign, but it’s a pain in the ass to play with only three people.” 

“Three?”

“Uh, my friend wants to play too.” Chie busied herself with finishing the vegetables Bakura had started. 

“Yeah, sure why not then.” Bakura shrugged, slurping noodles. “Bring everyone over after you guys close and we’ll play, but I swear if this place looks like shit Sunday because you did a half assed job here to go and play Monster World I will end you all.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a lazy bastard and it's my birthday, so I'm not proofreading this. Feel free to call me out on typos. Thanks for reading, y'all!

Bakura walked in the door with a covered basket in his arms.

“What’s that?” Kek asked as he played with the ferrets on the living room floor. 

“Granny made a care basket for Tomoko. Want to drop it off tonight and then get dinner in Domino? Some of this stuff is homemade, so it won’t keep until the weekend.” 

“Sure, let me call her and tell her we’re going to visit.” Kek gathered up the ferrets as he phoned Tomoko. 

Bakura rinsed off in the shower and changed into clean clothes, starting the washer when he was finished. Kek snuck up behind him and bear hugged him. Bakura still wore his bun, so Kek kissed his exposed neck. 

“Maybe after our dinner date, you can do that some more.” Bakura glanced over his shoulder with a sly look. 

“Hmmm…” Kek hummed, as if thinking. He licked up Bakura’s neck and nibbled against his ear. “Yeah, you’re sweet enough to be dessert.” 

“I should probably mention what happened today.” Bakura stalled the conversation by grabbing Kek’s hands and brushing his fingers across Kek’s bandaged knuckles. “You’ll never guess who walked into the restaurant and saw me.” 

Kek groaned. “Which one of Yugi’s idiot friends?”

“The King of Idiots himself and my old host.” 

“Yikes. Did they scream?”

“They were looking for me. I thought I called back Diabound before anyone could film him, but apparently someone leaked a clip online. Ryou figured out I was back- you too.” 

Kek grew wide eyed. “They’re not going to tell Marik, are they?”

“He’s sorta blackmailing me for information. He wants to learn about how the Items were made.” 

“Are you okay telling him?”

“Yeah, I think he should know.” Bakura fingered the five scars under his shirt. 

Kek cupped Bakura’s face. Bakura shrugged.

“Anyway. They’re coming over Saturday and I’ll start the story.”

“Okay.” Kek nodded.

“Then when Ko and Chie get off work, we’re all going to play Monster World.”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s like therapy after the trauma.” Bakura winked.

“Are you fucking serious?” 

“Hey, if they’re dumb enough to agree to it, I’m not going to say no to a Tabletop RPG. At least we have a table, right? I can set up a good game on that, and I’ll make Ryou bring his tile sets since those get pricey as fuck to buy.” 

“And you’re sure they know it’s _me_ , right? They actually agreed to this? Although I’m here? Hell, why are they dumb enough to play a game against _you_ after everything we did to them?”

“The fools are confident that I can’t decimate them without the Items, but they better pray to their dice because I’m not going easy at all as DM.” 

“Hey, if I’m stuck playing as a character, you better not cheat and screw us all.”

“Yes, no need to screw you all- you alone will do just fine.” Bakura pinched Kek's ass and gathered up the basket of goods for Tomoko. “Are you ready?” 

“She's out of the hospital and staying with a friend, but she gave me the address.” Kek flashed a piece of paper at Bakura before stuffing it back into his pocket.

***

Friday came around and Bakura went to the store for groceries and to load up on snacks for the next night. He was begrudgingly excited about a gaming night, even if it came with the price of bearing the company of his old enemies. 

When he went to put away the groceries, Bakura noticed a small corner fish tank filled with gold fish on the counter.

“Kek? What the hell?” Bakura shouted toward the bedroom. 

“Infirit needed friends!” Kek shouted back. 

“They’re not even in the same tank! What are they? Penpals?!” 

“You think we could fit a hamster cage in the bedroom?”

“No we can’t fit a hamster cage in the bedroom!” Bakura smacked his head against the cupboard. It was either that, or throw plates at Kek’s head. 

Kek appeared, grabbing Bakura and swirling him in the air before setting him down on the counter and kissing him. Any attempt Bakura made to sound angry died the moment Kek’s tongue slipped into Bakura’s mouth. He closed his eyes. His hands grabbed at Kek’s shoulders. The more they kissed, the more Bakura’s hands grabbed for Kek. wanting him, needing him.

His fingers slipped beneath Kek’s shirt, nails grazing up and down Kek’s stomach. Kek held Bakura’s face with his left hand and tangled his right hand into Bakura's hair. Bakura’s hands dropped down to Kek’s belt. He tugged and yanked, until he managed to unfasten the buckle. Bakura unzipped Kek’s jeans, hooked his thumbs below his waistline, and pushed the clothing down to Kek’s thighs. His hand darted to Kek’s hardening cock and stroked it until Kek moaned in Bakura’s mouth while his dick twitched in Bakura’s hand. 

“Right here?” Kek asked. 

“Yes.” Bakura kissed up Kek’s neck. “Here. Now. Right now.” 

“Let me get the lube.” 

Bakura growled in frustration, angry to stop for even a moment. He leaned back and grabbed his own shaft, glaring at Kek as he pleasured himself. 

“Hurry back, baby. I want you now.” 

Kek’s mouth went slack as he stared at Bakura. He shook his head, kicked his pants off, and raced down the hallway. When he returned, his fingers glistened and the slipped into Bakura’s asshole without resistance. Bakura planted his heels on the counter and tossed his head back, moaning, and moaning, and squeezing his cock.

“Give me the lube.” Bakura reached out his hand. 

Kek passed over the bottle and Bakura greased up his cock as Kek prepped him. With his dick wet, his hand glided up and down it quick easy motions.

“You look so hot touching yourself.” Kek purred, accenting the statement with a quick nip to Bakura’s throat. 

After another minute of stroking his own cock, Bakura braced himself against the counter. His right hand slipped, so he dropped to his elbows. Kek kissed down Bakura’s inner thighs. Each brush of his lips sent electric currents coursing up Bakura’s body. 

“I’m ready. I want you inside me.” Bakura scooted so that his ass was half hanging off of the counter.

“I will do anything you tell me to.”

“Stop bringing home pets.” Bakura knew he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t resist.

“I will do anything else you tell me to.” 

Bakura rolled his eyes, grinned, and eyed the way Kek’s cock swelled from arousal. “Take that monster between your legs and fill me.” 

“Like this?” Kek raised an eyebrow as he grabbed Bakura by the waist and pushed inside.

“Mmmm… yes, just like that. You’re so thick.”

“That’s because-” Kek gasped as he thrust, his fingers digging into Bakura’s side. “You made me so hard it hurts.” 

“Gods.” Bakura wrapped his legs around Kek. “I love when you’re inside me!”

And he did. Nothing was better than the way he clung to Kek as they moved together, or the way Kek whimpered with each shove of his hips, or the way Kek’s cock always seemed to find every secret nerve in Bakura’s body until Bakura was screaming in ecstasy. 

Kek was bent over Bakura, and Bakura grabbed his shoulders. In a quick swoop, Kek hoisted Bakura into the air. Bakura squeezed with his legs and twisted his arms around Kek’s neck. The movement thrilled him, sent his heart leaping against his chest, and made his guts tremble. Kek held onto Bakura’s ass and bounded him up and down on his engorged shaft. 

“Kek… bandages,” Bakura huffed out quick breaths. He didn’t want to stop. Gods of light and darkness, Kek’s hands on his ass felt sublime and the angle was perfect. 

“Just a few minutes,” Kek growled into Bakura’s hair.

Bakura didn’t have enough breath to argue. He curled against Kek’s shoulder and allowed Kek to bob Bakura up and down. 

“Bakura… Bakura… I’m going to cum so hard.” 

Bakura moaned and bit Kek’s neck. Kek roared in orgasm. His legs buckled, and he set Bakura on the ground before he dropped to his knees. Bakura licked his lips as he stared down at his sweating and gasping lover. Bakura marched to one of the kitchen chairs and plopped into seat, crooking his finger and summoning Kek.

“Ride me.”

Kek crawled across the kitchen floor, his eyes focused on Bakura the entire time. When he reached the chair he jumped up like a lion pouncing on a kill. He straddled Bakura’s lap, grabbed Bakura’s still slick cock, and impaled himself. Bakura’s eyes screwed shut. He reached for Kek’s ass, calling out as Kek circled his hips. 

“I love when you’re inside me,” Kek whispered into Bakura’s hair and held Bakura’s shoulder for balance. 

Bakura answered with a mewl of pleasure. He understood, having just experienced the stomach looping thrill of being filled. It was not a great loss, however, to have Kek’s tight, consuming heat wrapping around Bakura’s cock instead. Bakura opened his mouth to beg, but only cries came out. The more Kek bounced up and down, the stronger the need to come welled up inside Bakura until his groin was tight and almost aching. When he finally came, his orgasm swirled inside him like a hurricane and then scattered through each one of his nerves. The moment Bakura’s screams ceased, Kek dropped in an exhausted heap into Bakura’s lap and they held each other. Bakura traced Kek’s back, and Kek thumbed the five scars on Bakura’s chest. 

“We’re getting really good at this,” Bakura bragged with a grin on his face. 

“I don’t know… I think we should keep practicing.” Kek mimicked Bakura’s grin. 

“Sure. They say perfect practice makes perfect.”

Kek chuckled. He started the kisses at Bakura’s temple and trailed them down the side of Bakura’s face. 

“I want to bake a chocolate cake for tomorrow.” 

“Better clean up the kitchen first.” Bakura giggled because the kisses and his stray hair were tickling. “Honestly, I don’t give a fuck if lube got into Yugi’s slice of cake, but my co-workers deserve clean counters.” 

“Let’s take a bath first.” Kek bumped their noses together.

“You’ve somehow talked me into it. You’re quite the negotiator.” 

“And you’re quite the procrastinator.” 

“Make extra cake so we can eat some tonight.”

“Of course.” Kek flashed a wicked grin as he wandered off for the first shower. 

Bakura showered after him and then slipped into the hot water, taking his usual spot coiled in Kek’s lap. They leaned back together and relaxed, not exactly dozing, but close to it. 

“You know, I have every crack up in the ceiling memorized. I needed to stare at them each time we did this so make sure it was real and not a trick of the Shadows.” 

“I did the same, but not anymore.”

“No?”

“No. Since we’ve been back… I can honestly say I’ve never been this happy, but having to deal with Ryou again, the fire, the struggle between figuring out what’s right and what I feel like I should do- those are all too real. Besides,” Bakura sat up, wrapping his arms around Kek. “Had this been an illusion, we would have never needed to buy lube.”

“Good point.” Kek laughed. He sighed, his laughter evaporating as he got lost in thought. “I don’t worry about it anymore either. I never felt much in the Shadows. Angry mostly. Now there’s so much, in my thoughts… in my heart.” 

Bakura kissed Kek. 

“Do you think my soul is changing? Like Diabound is changing?” Kek asked once they separated. 

“No doubt.”

“Can you teach me? To summon him?” 

Bakura thought a moment. “The Ishtars wear the same kohl markings as the battle mages that guarded the pharaohs tombs in Egypt when I was the Thief King. I think I _could_ teach you how to summon your ka. You should have the magic aptitude for it.”

“Will you teach me? I want to know.” 

Bakura nodded. “I’ll teach you the meditations, and after I finish giving Ryou all the answers he deserves, we’ll go camping again.” 

Kek wrapped his arms around Bakura and crushed him in a hug. Bakura sighed, soaking in the pressure and thanking the gods for it. 

 

***

They woke up early and went to see Tomoko. They didn’t stay long because she was boarding at a friend’s house while the insurance handled her claim. When they returned home, Kek let out the ferrets so they could run around the apartment. Mukhfi, in a rare show of generosity, threw one of their toys so they could chase it. He threw it again when they brought it back. 

Kek frosted his cake while Bakura cleaned up the kitchen table. Their to-do list seemed long, but they finished long before anyone arrived, leaving Bakura and Kek alone to pace across the living room floor. 

“This is stupid,” Bakura muttered beneath his breath for the fourth time. 

“Did you ever think that _we’d_ be hosting a gaming night?” Kek laughed and fidgeted with his spikes. 

“No.” Bakura snorted.

“I mean, I know it’s not exactly a gaming night-”

“It is though. We didn’t really need to play for me to tell Ryou about the Items. I just… wanted to. It came up, so I made it part of the deal.” Bakura shrugged. “Turned out a little more crowded than I thought, but these games work better with a group so I’m not complaining in that change of plan.” 

They both twisted toward the door when they heard the knock. Bakura smirked, slipping his arm around Kek’s waist and walking him toward the door.

“What are you doing, Bakura?” Kek asked.

“There’s no mopping up bad blood, so let’s shock the hell out of them.”

Kek laughed and wrapped his own bandaged arm around Bakura’s shoulders. They answered the door like a couple, and the surprised confusion on Yugi’s face made it worthwhile. Ryou stayed stoic, jaded to Bakura’s pranks. 

“Hello! Good to see you again!” Bakura greeted them with his best faux Ryou impression. 

“We’re so glad you can make it!” Kek used his _customer service_ voice. 

“Funny.” Ryou pushed through them and glanced around the apartment. 

“Oh come on, Ryou, have a sense of humor about this.” Bakura let go of Kek so he could cross his arms over his chest. 

“Is it Ryou now? Whatever happened to _yadonushi_?” Ryou asked. 

“ _Yadonushi_ is what he calls my mom.” Kek laughed. 

“Your mom?” Yugi asked, his face still washed in surprised awe. 

Kek pointed to the wall where they were planning on setting up the TV after they bought it. They didn’t have much hanging up, mostly posters of video games that they’d won at the arcade, but there was a framed picture of Kek and Tomoko hanging on the wall in a 100-yen-store frame. Beside it was one of him and Kek, and Bakura hoped they didn’t look too closely because Bakura was blushing in that picture terribly. Bakura realized, with some small amount of horror on his part, that he wouldn’t mind another picture of him and the restaurant crew. Perhaps even one with Bakura, Kek, and Tomoko. 

“Oh, I recognize her,” Yugi said. “She was the one from the fire.” 

Kek growled, clenching his fists. Bakura face palmed at Yugi’s candidness. 

“Is that why your hands are bandaged?” Ryou asked. “The fire?” 

“Fuck my hands,” Kek barked, grinding his teeth as he remembered that day. “I was going to hurt them for breaking the window. I was going to cut pieces off them until they _begged for her forgiveness_ , but she made me stop. So I did, because I wanted to do the right thing, but look at what happened? They came back and burnt down her home! I can’t- I’m so fucking angry at myself for not cutting them first-”

Bakura flung his arms around Kek, pressing his forehead into the spot between Kek’s shoulder blades. He didn’t have anything to say. They’d already talked about it, and how useless non-violence seemed to them despite their decision to let the cops handle it. There was nothing more to do at that moment than hold Kek, remind him that Bakura was there. 

“I’m okay,” Kek snapped, but Bakura knew the shortness of Kek’s words weren’t directed at him. “You know I won’t. I just- I’m just mad still.” 

“Don’t get blood on the couch. Mukhfi will be pissed,” Bakura said. 

“Mukhfi?” Ryou asked. He was… a little too calm, considering Kek’s outburst. At least Yugi had the decency to step back and look a little nervous. Not Ryou, he merely gave Bakura an inquisitive look, ignoring Kek altogether. 

“Okay, watch this Ryou, you’re going to flip.” Bakura snickered, glad for the change of topic and going to the kitchen to grab the sake. 

He figured Kek needed a distraction, and there was nothing like a couch possessed by a minor trickster deity to both distract and break the ice of the most awkward gaming night in the history of awkward-nerd-gaming-nights. Bakura set the rest of the bottle on the center cushion and stepped back. Mukhfi poked out his head from the cushions and then disappeared again. A few seconds later, his hands raised up from beneath the fabric, grabbing the bottle and pulling it into the sofa. 

“Was that… a racoon?” Yugi asked. 

“He’s a tanuki.” Bakura turned to Ryou. “A real one.”

“Bullshit,” Ryou said. 

“He lives in the sofa,” Kek explained.

“I’m pretty sure he _is_ the sofa,” Bakura said. “Heh, of course it’d be an asshole tanuki that looked over a couple of lost assholes like us.” 

“Only we’re not lost anymore.” Kek bumped his hip into Bakura’s. Bakura smirked in appreciation of the gesture. 

“Are you still teasing us? It’s hard to believe you guys are really like this.” Yugi narrowed his eyes at them. 

“Then don’t believe, I don’t care. You’re not here to be impressed, you’re here for my story. Isn’t that right, Ryou?” Bakura dropped down on the couch and stared at his old host. 

“Yes.” Ryou knelt onto the carpet, his gaze locked on Bakura. 

Bakura swallowed, staring at his hands and avoiding the others. Kek sat beside him, holding his hand. Bakura smiled and brushed his free fingers against Kek’s tapped knuckles. Kek gave him strength. By now, he was used to telling Kek stories to fill their TV-less hours, and he reminded himself that this wasn’t much different. Just a story. It was over.

It was over. 

The past was carved into stone, carved into Kek’s back. Bakura couldn’t change it, but perhaps it was time… to say it outloud. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in bed, trying to sleep, and then I realized... I did not update this :o
> 
> Quick notes:  
> Dmbakura came up with Hamadi and Sati. You probably all follow them on tumblr already, but if not check out their art. It's awesome. 
> 
> The info about "Bakura" meaning either "Devourer or Ra" or "Sunrise" comes from an essay written by Ariasune (also on tumblr and also a good artist)
> 
> For anyone that doesn't already know, while Kek is a god of darkness, he was also considered to be the "bringing of dawn" b/c he was the darkness right before the morning light. 
> 
> I find it fucking hilarious that kurakek are technically named "Sunrise" and "Dawn Bringer." What other reason do you need to ship them? Just look at these chumps. Their very names demand that they "grow bright together"

“A long time ago there was a kid named Hamadi, and he lived with his brother and family in a village of esteemed tomb builders. He grew up to become the lead designer of the traps that protected the Pharaoh after death. Now every month a caravan of traders from the southern borders of Kemet would stop by on their way to the capitol, and the merchant’s daughter… was beautiful.”

“This is fake.” Yugi narrowed his eyebrows.

“Excuse me?” Bakura scowled at him. 

“Isn’t this supposed to be your origin story? There’s no way you fell in love with a beautiful woman.” 

“ _Anyway_.” Bakura snorted. “Her name was Sati, and she had hair as pale as Khonsu’s light and she was clever as Thoth, but the woman had a short temper and a foul mouth.” 

“Your mother.” Ryou smiled. He was engrossed with Bakura’s story, eyes frozen on Bakura as he spoke. 

“Bingo.” Bakura gunned Ryou down with his finger. “But you’re skipping ahead. Anyway, Hamadi always tried to impress her. He’d recite poetry, make her puzzle boxes so she could hide her jewels from thieves, he’d save all his money just to offer her honey cakes when she passed through the village, but despite all his efforts, she scorned him.” 

“Short-tempered and scornful? Damn, Bakura, the romantic tastes in your family must be hereditary.” Kek snickered.

“Eat me.”

Kek leaned closer licking his lips with his untamable tongue and lidded his dark, periwinkle eyes. Bakura blushed, pushing through his story in a rushed string of words. 

“Everytime she taunted him, his anger grew, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and he bit back at her insults with his own. They argued for months during her visits, until he couldn’t remember what had set him off in the first place. So, the next time the caravan returned to trade, instead of giving her another poem or another insult, he started telling her jokes, but she knew more and was better at telling them. They would walk along the river bank, swapping jokes and stories. Often, she would make him laugh until he literally tumbled onto his back in laughter. One such day he stopped laughing and gazed up at her from his bed of tall grass, and she stared down at him smiling. That day, rather than helping him up, she decided to lay down with him.” Bakura winked. “The next month they were married, and when they had a son, the named him _Devourer of Ra_.” 

“Sure she didn’t name him _Sunrise_?” Kek smirked. 

“Shut your fucking mouth, _Dawn Bringer_.” 

“I’m going to start calling you Sunrise in bed.”

“You can call me anything you want in bed- I’ll be too distracted to care.” Bakura laughed. 

“Bakura,” Ryou said in a voice that quietly demanded they get back on track. 

“Yeah, yeah. They were… happy, okay? They were happy.” Bakura sighed. “Then the attacks started. At first it was rumors about the borders being attacked. Then they weren’t rumors anymore. The Pharaoh sent soldiers, but soldiers are expensive to maintain, and half the cattle and grain meant to pay the tomb-builders went to the soldiers instead. It was manageable, although the village grew thin. Then the invaders became a worse threat, more soldiers were needed to protect the kingdom, and skinny bellies became starving ones. I remember- I couldn’t be four yet, it was too early in the year, but I remember laying on my side and I couldn’t get up. I felt… empty. Probably hadn’t eaten in four or five days, so I just laid about. I could hear my parents arguing with some of the other villagers, and then they were gone.” Bakura hugged himself, his mind fading into his memories. “And I thought that maybe they were looking for food? And it made sense because the next day, when they came back, they had beer and bread, leeks and fish, and so I just assumed that they found it, somewhere.” Bakura laughed, but it was weary and his stomach burned. “After that, instead of teaching me how to build traps, my father started teaching me how to disable them.” 

“Your village became thieves because they were starving?” Yugi asked. 

“Some did. Most became thieves because their _children were starving_. That’s a little harder to watch. Especially when you’re still expected to build extravagant burial chambers so the pharaohs can take their riches with them to the afterlife. People get _bitter_.” Bakura stood up, marching to the kitchen and grabbing the snacks for their gaming. “I’m done for tonight.”

Ryou stood and spun around to keep his eyes locked on Bakura. “But-”

“But the next part is something I don’t talk about. You’ll get your damn story, Ryou, but only as much as I can stand each week.”

“Alright. I suppose we can set up the game for when the others get here.” Ryou sighed and finally looked away. 

Bakura also sighed, relieved that he couldn't feel Ryou’s gaze on him any longer. He rearranged the same three bags of chips on the counter several times and Kek wandered around the apartment and introduced Ryou and Yugi to all his pets. Bakura rested his hands on the counter, dropping his head. The shadows his hair cast onto the countertop reminded him of the Shadow Realm, reminded him that he once belonged to the darkness, and although Diabound was proof that was was reclaiming his soul for himself, he couldn’t help but feel chaffed by the dark chains that had wrapped around his wrists and ankles for thousands of years.

He felt Kek’s breath, gentle against his neck, and felt Kek’s arms, coiling around him and holding him. The tension seeped out of Bakura’s muscles, and then he was leaning back, lost in Kek’s embrace. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realized that the memories bothered you. I didn’t realize anything could bother you.” He heard Ryou beside him, but couldn’t see him because his eyes were closed. Bakura broke away, realizing that they must have looked like sappy fools. 

“I made a cake,” Kek said, changing the topic. 

Ryou’s eyes lit up. “You did?”

“Bakura taught me how.” Kek beamed, like he was proud of the fact, as he pulled out the chocolate cake from the fridge.

“He _did_?” Ryou asked, disbelieving, but he forgot all about it when he saw the two layers drowning in frosting. “Oh my, that looks great!” 

There was an overly enthusiastic knock on the door that could only be Ko, so Bakura left the dessert junkies to their own devices so he could answer the door. 

“Bakura!” Ko glomped him like they were old friends. 

“Has he had his shots?” Bakura asked Chie as she walked in behind Ko.

“Hell if I know.” Chie shrugged. She gestured to a girl with spiky, bleach hair and a pierced nose behind her. “This is Hazuki.”

Bakura gave her a brief nod as he (probably too gently) pushed Ko away and pointed as he introduced everyone else. “Bakura. That’s my roommate, Kek. My _dear cousin_ , Ryou, and his friend Yugi.” 

They all greeted each other in the typical, Japanese way that Bakura always found overly friendly and wholly unnecessary.

“The restaurant doesn’t look like crap, does it?” Bakura gave Ko a suspicious glare.

“Of course not!” Ko bristled at the unofficial accusation. 

“Does it?” He turned to Chie, asking more reasonably- he trusted her answer a little more.

“Don’t worry. We didn’t want to hear your bitching at work. The restaurant looks good.” 

Then the apartment grew chaotic as everyone pulled chairs around the table. Bags of chips passed from hand to hand while Kek handed out slices of cake on paper plates- they didn’t own enough plates to serve everyone on glass. Not that anyone minded. They cheered the snacks and raised their cans of coffee in a mock toast. Bakura grabbed the laptop Ryou bought and set up his screen for dice rolls. 

“Your party was travelling by ship when a storm destroyed the vessel. You were all convinced you were fated to drown, but as you wake up, you find that your situation is perhaps worse. You’re all shackled to a stone wall in a room that appears to be part experimental lab- and part torture chamber, and you have no idea where your gear is.” 

“Neat!” Ryou’s face brightened with a huge smile. 

“That’s not neat. That’s terrifying.” Ko pressed his hands together, pointer fingers pressed into his lips as he stared at his stat sheet. 

“No, Ryou’s right, that’s pretty fucking sweet. Can you describe all the torture devices?” Kek’s grin matched Ryou’s, only on his face is looked less cute and more sinister. 

“Roll for perception.” 

Kek rolled high enough that Bakura had to explain every device in the room with pretty good detail. The moment he finished, Ryou chimed in.

“I want to examine the locks.” 

He bombed the roll, pouting, but keeping quiet as Bakura told him he couldn’t make much out about them in the shadows. 

“I dislocate my thumbs and pull my hands free,” Chie sad. 

Bakura glanced at her character sheet. Not only was she a thief, but she was double jointed, so it didn’t take much for her to get out of the shackles. She had all the traps disabled, found the chest with their gear- which gave her her lockpick kit- and was able to free everyone else long before the assistant entered the room to feed them.

Then it was Kek’s turn to shine, ambushing the assistant before he realized the prisoners were free, and locking him up on the rack and getting _far too much_ quest information out from him. Damn, Bakura had underestimated this group. He knew Ryou would be good, and maybe Yugi, but didn’t think everyone would be competent. He had to adjust right away, making the random encounters a little more difficult to compensate for how well they were with strategy, and- oddly enough- teamwork. Even bumping everything up, Yugi still managed to have a small, liberated army of magical experiments following their party to help them with fights. 

As a last second decision, Bakura tossed a golem at the exit of the manor. He was meant to be a sort of mini boss to use up some of the potions they had found snooping throughout the manor, but between Ryou’s shields, Kek’s critical hits, and Chie and Hazuki’s stealth attacks, they still faired a little better than Bakura had liked. 

“Okay. It’s three in the morning, and this is a good place to stop.” Bakura reached up over his head and stretched.

“We’re playing next Saturday, right?” Ko leaned forward. 

His eyes were bright and alert, someone who was used to seeing 3AM without needing sleep. Bakura suddenly felt old. Bakura glanced at Ryou before answering.

“Yeah, same deal as this week. Come by after work and we’ll pick up in the forest- and it’s going to be harder next week. I went far too easy on you guys tonight because it was our first session.”

“You’ve always been a little soft as a DM,” Ryou said in a quiet voice. 

“Forgive me, _cousin_ , if I’m not quite the gaming sadist that you are.” 

“You are a sadist, Ryou.” Yugi yawned for the third time in about as many minutes. “Your games are so hard no one will play with us anymore.” 

“They have to be that hard for you to be challenged.” A faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Ryou’s mouth.

Chie stood up, giving a little bow. “We’re out. I have to work the lunch shift with Granny tomorrow.” 

“Maybe she’ll give you the good coffee.” Bakura chuckled. 

“She usually does on the weekends.” Chie grinned.

“Wait? Why haven’t I gotten special coffee?” Ko pouted.

“Cuz you’re too young until next year.” Chie laughed and mussed up his hair.

He fled from her, smoothing his hair back in place. Bakura noted the trick for future use when he needed a meter of space away from Ko’s overaffection. 

“It was good meeting you!” Yugi made sure he said goodbye to each of them as they left. Ryou echoed his politeness, but Kek and Bakura only waved them out the door. 

“Next week. Same time,” Ryou said. 

He was tired, clearly tired. The shadows under his eyes were darker than usual and Yugi was yawning again. Bakura and Kek exchanged a glance at each other. Kek frowned fidgeting with a fork.

“Domino is sort of a long trip back,” he muttered.

“We’ll steal two cans of coffee for the trip back, if that’s alright?” Yugi asked.

“Don’t ask to steal something. It’s an insult.” Bakura snorted. 

“Does that mean we’re friends and I can just grab things out of your fridge now?” Yugi grinned, walking toward the fridge to carry through on his threat. 

“If Mukhfi says it’s okay, you can spend the night.” Kek sighed as if saying it were a trial of long suffering. “At least if you want to sleep on the couch. I guess I’ll find the extra blanket.”

Bakura didn’t know if the gods were watching them, but between refraining from crime, refraining for vigilante justice, and somehow being semi-gracious hosts in the year they’d been alive, Thoth better have been taking fucking notes. 

“Ask your pet?” Yugi laughed. 

“That one isn’t exactly a pet.” Bakura shook his head and marched toward their bedroom. “Look if you want to just crash on the couch, and not ask the tankuki first, it’s none of my business, but we _are not helping you_ if he takes offense and you end up in trouble. Serves you right.”

“How do we know if he minds or not?” Ryou asked, taking Bakura more seriously. 

“Eh, just sit on the couch with one of the opened bags of chips and feed him. Bribes worked for me. If he doesn’t growl, you’re probably okay.” 

Bakura passed Kek in the hallway as he was bringing the blanket back. The hallway was dark, and Kek grabbed Bakura with his free hand and drew Bakura into his chest. Bakura grinned, his breath growing shallow, the proximity exciting him. Kek’s heat sank to Bakura through their clothes. 

“I love you,” Kek whispered into Bakura’s ear. Anyone else would have thought he was whispering a threat, as course and gruff as his voice sounded, but Bakura brushed their noses together, keeping his lips out of reach to tease Kek. 

“I love you too.” 

“Guess we should put the kids to bed so that-”

“Wow! You two really have changed, haven’t you?” Yugi cheered at the other end of the hallway.

“Do you fucking mind?” Bakura marched to their room. Before he slammed the door he heard Yugi call out _sorry, I had to find the bathroom_ , but he ignored Yugi because he didn’t want the vessel of his greatest enemy to see how red Bakura’s face was. 

Bakura curled up on the cushions they kept on the floor for fooling around. The area was more a post-sex-napping-nook than a proper sleeping area, but as King of Thieves, Bakura had slept in much worse conditions. Kek appeared a moment later and stripped down to his boxers. Bakura purred and followed his example, raising his arms over his head and giving Kek and inviting gaze, beckoning Kek to the cushions. 

Kek pounced on top of Bakura. His knees crashed on either side as Kek straddled him. Bakura’s fingers ran along Kek’s spikes. Kek rolled onto his side, pulling Bakura closer so that he could kiss him. Their mouths pushed and pulled like waves on a shore, crashing down, then sucking back only to crash forward again. Bakura’s hips rocked against Kek’s body, eager for contact. The boxers bunched around Bakura’s thighs, but he didn’t stop moving or reach to fix them. He needed to push against Kek’s body the same way their mouths pushed together. 

Kek grabbed Bakura’s ass, pulling their bodies closer for more pressure against their cocks. Bakura moaned, uncensored. He didn't care if he was heard or not. His hands fought their way out of Kek’s hair and to his chest. Bakura squeezed and kneaded Kek’s muscles as Kek pushed his tongue into Bakura’s mouth. Bakura’s nails scraped against Kek’s skin when Bakura shoved his hand down Kek’s boxer shorts, but that only made Kek go _mmmmm_ in excitement. Their kisses broke as Kek opened his mouth to suck in greedy breaths as Bakura worked Kek’s shaft for all he was worth. 

“B-Bakura,” Kek gasped. 

“Yes,” Bakura snarled into Kek’s ear, stroking tightly and quickly. 

“B-Bakura, I don’t want to clean up after.” Kek panted, screwing his eyes shut and bucking into Bakura’s hand. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure there isn’t a drop left to clean up.”

Bakura shoved Kek onto his back and kissed his way down. He yanked Kek’s boxers down, rolling his tongue up and down Kek’s inner thighs. Kek arched when Bakura nibbled, and tugged at Bakura’s hair. Bakura used his tongue to trace along Kek’s balls, and then pressed his lips to Kek’s left testicle, drawing it into his mouth. 

“Oh fuck,” Kek called out in a harsh, but quiet voice. 

Bakura switched, sucking and flicking the skin of Kek’s sack with his tongue. After a few minutes he licked up Kek’s shaft and then dropped down with his lips sealed. When Kek’s tip grazed the back of Bakura’s throat, he drew back up and began again. 

“Oh fucking gods, Bakura. Oh fuck. Your words are acrid, but your mouth is so, so, so sweet when you suck me off.” 

Bakura felt his stomach tighten at Kek’s praise. He reached into his own boxers with his left hand and toyed with his prick while his right hand kept a firm grip on Kek’s base. Kek growled, jerking his hips up in quick bursts. Bakura let go of his own cock to brace himself and slide up and down with more ferocity. Kek’s back raised up like a bow getting strung, his eyes rolled up, he moaned, and he came into Bakura’s mouth. Bakura drank him dry, pulling back and wiping his mouth with a smirk on his friction-burned lips. 

“There you go. Mess-free.” 

Kek pulled Bakura back down, kissing him again. He rolled them and clawed off Bakura’s boxers so he could return the favor. Bakura stole several quick breaths as Kek’s lips danced along his pelvis. When Kek sucked, Bakura cried out. His hair tangled against the pillows, but he ignored the tickle of it around his face as he scratched the cushion below them and groaned. So warm. So warm. Kek’s mouth was warm. The shivers shimmying up Bakura’s belly and spine were warm. Bakura’s thoughts were warm. As his legs cocooned themselves around the back of Kek’s neck, Bakura couldn't think of anything except how good he felt at that moment. 

Kek’s mouth watered down Bakura’s shaft. He used it as lube to tease the perimeter of Bakura’s asshole with a probing finger. The real lube was nearby, so Kek added a dollop to Bakura’s asshole and eased two fingers inside.

“ _Ahhh! Mmmmm! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ahh! Ahhh!_ ” Bakura wailed as Kek kept striking Bakura’s prostate with his long, thick fingers. 

Kek sucked, and sucked, and sucked, and sucked, and then Bakura’s stomach felt like the sky during a firework finale- bright, beautiful sparks exploded within him as he came. Then he was boneless against the cushions and Kek was holding him in a selfish, demanding way that Bakura loved. 


	22. Chapter 22

“Damn, that smells good,” Kek muttered into Bakura’s hair.

Bakura’s face was smashed against Kek’s chest, and Kek always smelled good to him- a little like cardamom and a lot like a brute. Bakura peppered Kek’s chest with kisses as he woke up. He blinked his eyes, but then realized that he could smell it too. It smelled like sage and maple and the frying of pork fat. Bakura stretched, yawned, scratched his tangled hair, and found his boxers and shirt. 

He stumbled down the hall, Kek still dozing in their cushion piles. He noticed Yugi curled in a ball and still sleeping on the sofa. Ryou stood in the kitchen with Mukhfi cradled in the crook of his left arm, and a spatula in his hand as he flipped pancakes. 

“Good morning. I ran to the store and bought things to make breakfast. Pancakes and sausage. I hope you slept well.” Ryou greeted with a nod. 

“Yeah…” Bakura blinked. The sight was weird somehow, and the conversation was too civil. “You?”

“Oh yes, thank you. That couch is ugly, but it’s amazingly comfortable.” 

Mukhfi snorted at Ryou.

“It’s ugly and you know it,” Bakura spoke to the tanuki. “And be glad Ryou’s cradling you because I’m sure as hell not going to violate health codes like that.”

“So, you really like your job?” Ryou set down the spatula and picked up a ladle to to pour the next batch. 

“Yeah... I do.”

“Your co-workers are nice. Chie reminds me of you. She’s so tsundere.” 

“She’s competent,” Bakura corrected as he found the can of instant coffee and started the kettle, leaning over Ryou to turn on the stove. 

“You know… I was excited when I discovered you were back, but I didn’t think it’d be anything like this.” 

“Pancakes and possessed couches?” Bakura yawned as he reached into a separate cupboard for coffee cups. They owned exactly four, so that worked. 

“This was fun. It’s unnerving, to be quite honest. You’re not- you’re not supposed to be _fun_. You’re supposed to be…”

“A monster,” Bakura said.

“I’ve only known you as a ghost, and you were very difficult.”

“Oh come now. I’m still terribly difficult.” 

“You haven’t even stabbed me once the entire visit.”

“Funny.” Bakura leaned back against the counter, staring at the scared knot in his left hand. 

“I noticed… that you have them, too.” 

“Yeah, I have all of them.” Bakura lifted up his shirt to show the tine-scars caused by the Ring before turning around and pouring the coffee into their cups. He spooned sugar and cream into Ryou and Yugi’s and kept his and Kek’s cups dark. 

“That’s somehow comforting to me. Is that petty? That I want you to have to have them, too.”

“I should have them instead,” Bakura said. He watched the coffee swirl in each cup. “I told you about my parents, and about why Kul Elna started stealing, because I wanted you to know that they weren’t _just thieves_. That seems to be the part everyone always focused on. They’re just thieves. But to me, they were home. My home. I didn’t understand how there was food again, at first, but I figured it out after my father started teaching me about getting past traps. And it’s not like everyone felt the same way. Some people refused to steal. Some left the village. Some continued to starve. Some of the older folk lectured everyone but took the bread at meal time. Some laughed and asked why the Pharaohs should feast in the afterlife if we were starving? My mother often cried, but only when she thought my father and I wouldn’t hear her.” 

“I never judged you for stealing, Bakura.” Ryou flipped his pancakes again. 

“I know. You’re too good to judge someone for much of anything, but in Egypt, there wasn’t much worse than a thief of any kind. Ever read the Negative Confessions? How many times does one have to swear they aren’t stealing? So the royal court considered thieves the most vile of fiends- not people, fiends. I was playing between the buildings, when it happened. I was playing thief, trying to slip through the smallest cracks and pretend they were the shafts in the pyramids. Then I froze in place, because I heard screams. As a child I only knew Kul Elna. I know every sound of the village. The locusts when they hummed, the hyenas laughing at the edge of the desert, the murmur of conversation, the music we’d play, the crackle of late night fires. There were never screams. It was surreal, and I sat in the shadows and listened, trying to process it. I finally snapped out of it, and crawled out of my imaginary tunnels to see what was happening…”

Ryou turned off the heat of the skillet and turned to face Bakura, giving him his full attention. 

“I saw a man from the village speared down the moment I peeked out from behind the wall. Everyone. They cut down everyone, but not to kill them. That would have been merciful, to kill them. But no. They dragged them groaning and bleeding to a cauldron of molten gold and through them inside.”

“That’s… oh.” Ryou folded to the floor, kneeling. Mukhfi jumped out of his arms and they hung limply at his sides, knuckles pressed into the tile. “Thank you… I understand now. You don’t have to continue, if it hurts.”

“It always hurts.” Bakura glanced at Ryou who gazed at the tiles in shock. “It was Shadow Alchemy. After they left with the Items, the ghosts of everyone sacrificed stayed behind. Day and night, they screamed for vengeance.” Bakura slid down the bottom cupboards until he sat on the floor as well, his knees tucked up against his chest as he hugged himself. “A vengeance I was never able to give them, even though I corrupted my own soul trying to.” 

He heard timid sobs and frowned because Ryou wasn’t crying. Only then did he notice Yugi standing at the threshold of the kitchen. 

“I didn’t know,” Yugi whispered. “Even in the Memory World, I was looking for Atem’s name.” 

“I built the town for the RPG.” Ryou nodded, “And still I didn’t know.” 

“The Pharaoh knew. I made sure he knew.” Bakura said.

“He must not have understood.”

“He understood.” Bakura’s laugh was bitter and he felt hollow. 

“Then why didn’t he help you?” Yugi wiped his eyes.

“Help me.” Bakura couldn’t stop laughing. It was growing, hotter now, angrier. “Help me. He couldn’t help me. There was no _helping_. _Only winning and losing_ ” 

“But you’re good now,” Yugi insisted.

“I’m no different than I’ve always been. Good? Evil? Whatever those mean, I haven’t given them a single thought this whole time. I simply have different goals now that the Pharaoh has moved on.” 

He saw Kek appear from the hallway. Bakura grinned at him. He had a specific goal, a specific plan. He told Kek about the raise, but not _how much_ , so they were saving money for a TV and game console, but Bakura had paid someone for fake identification and had opened up a savings account he never told Kek about. He had a specific plan, and a specific surprise that he hoped to spring on Kek as soon as he found the right one. A huge present to make up for never getting presents before when he only existed as a shadow. 

“You okay?” Kek walked to him, kneeling down in front of him and cupping Bakura’s cheek. 

“How can I not be?” Bakura whispered. He whispered it because the words were for Kek alone. “You’re here with me.” 

“You sly, fucking dog.” Kek smirked, and kissed the tip of Bakura’s nose. 

“Stop that.” Bakura felt his nose scrunch up with the tickle of the kiss. “Ryou, where are my pancakes?”

“I have sausage as well.” Ryou sighed and shook his head at Bakura’s avoidance. 

At least the worst of his history was over. The other parts wouldn’t be half as hard to say.

***

A few weeks later Kek sat on the couch with a book in his hands. He shuffled his feet, and Bakura could tell he was nervous. 

“What’s up?” Bakura asked, prompting Kek to spit out whatever he was thinking. 

“We haven’t read together in a long time, and I miss it.” Kek laughed with the nervous, breathy laugh of someone flirting but expecting rejection. “I don’t have any new comic books, but this looked like a good book, so I was wondering-”

Before Kek could finish asking, Bakura jumped onto the sofa and curled up against Kek. He heard a muffled growl, and apologized to Mukhfi, and then made himself more comfortable. 

“Of course I want you to read to me. I’m too lazy to read to myself. Do all the work for me.” Bakura chuckled. 

“It’s called _Where the Red Fern Grows_.”

Bakura was vaguely familiar with the book because of a report Ryou had to do in his English language class. He probably never had the opportunity because of Battle City, but Bakura knew it was about a boy with two dogs.

“This isn’t subtle propaganda to convince me to get you a puppy, is it?”

“Just because I can’t _have_ a dog, doesn’t mean I can’t _read_ about them. Besides, I’m going to get a rat.”

“No you’re not.”

“Stop me, bitch.”

“I will fucking fling the cage into the trash can.”

“You hurt my rat and I’m dumping you.”

“You would not!”

“I would if you hurt my pets. Not that I’m worried, your threats are always so empty.” 

Bakura growled, sulking against Kek’s side. “Just read the book- I can’t believe you’re going to bring _another pet_ _into the apartment_. We’re going to start smelling like a zoo in here.” 

“I keep everything clean and always air out the apartment.” 

“You have fish, birds, and soon multiple kinds of rodents.” 

“Yes, and I love them all.”

“Well don’t get attached to the dogs.”

“I know. I know. I read the blurb on the back, but the librarian recommended it and she always suggests good books so I’m reading it anyway.” 

“You’re going to cry.” 

“Don’t be a drama queen.” Kek licked his fingers, turned to the beginning of the book, and started to read.

They read three chapters before they decided to get up and cook themselves dinner. 

“What should I make for our next gaming night?”

“Ryou’s favorite is cream puffs,” Bakura said.

“I’ve never made those.”

“The library will have a cookbook,” Bakura suggested. 

They'd continued playing Monster World each week. Before each session Bakura would tell them stories about his days as the Thief King. Kek particularly loved hearing them. Turned out that Bakura had been a sort of nameless boogie man that the tomb-keepers used to keep their children well behaved, but Malik used to daydream about the mysterious thief that could escape any tomb no matter how well-guarded. If only Bakura had known during Battle City. He would have never let his old partner live it down. Still, it was fun to tease Kek about it, too- especially in bed. 

“Yeah, I bet I can copy a few pages and have ideas for the next few months. I’ll go tomorrow after work.” 

“I won’t worry if you’re home late, then,” Bakura said, shaking his head at how domestic they’d become as they sat down to eat their oden together. Bakura waggled his eyebrows. “Want to take a bath before bed?”

“You know I do.” Kek licked his lips before slurping on his soup. 

***

“Kek! Kek! Kek!” Bakura screamed as each thrust sent him spiralling closer and closer to sheer bliss.

It was Friday night. Finally Friday night. The long week was over, they were off for the rest of the weekend. Tomorrow would be gaming night, but tonight- tonight was theirs. Bakura’s ankles were anchored on top of Kek’s shoulders and Kek had Bakura lifted up to his upper back as he bore down into him. It was so good that it was almost _too_ much. He struck Bakura’s prostate _hard_ with each drive down into his body, and Bakura was stroking himself, but it was difficult to climax when each thrust felt almost as intense as an orgasm. 

Kek pulled out for a moment, dousing them with fresh lube since they’d been going for awhile. He slipped back inside and growled in ecstasy as Bakura clenched his muscles around Kek’s flesh. They lay in missionary as they continued. Kek whispered sweet nothings against Bakura’s chest as he hitched into his body. He reached down, and displaced Bakura’s hand so he could stroke Bakura instead. The moment Kek touched him, a jolt rocketed through Bakura.

“Oooohh!” Bakura screamed. 

Bakura felt so light, so _close_ as they joined their bodies together. The week had been good, but long. Busy work, people texting and asking questions about gaming, hassling the internet people to try and get wifi set up for their phones and gaming systems despite the fact that they didn’t have a computer in the apartment (one thing at a time, damn). There were baths, and reading, and rubbing each other’s shoulders as well. It hadn’t been a bad week, by and by it had been a good one, but it had been a long, full week. Now, to lie back, to hold Kek close, to allow himself to be loved both physically and emotionally, was the greatest glory Bakura had ever known. And he felt a sense of victory blooming inside him. He felt the love and passion Kek had for him sinking into him in waves that matched the rhythm of Kek’s thrusts. He felt his own joy and pleasure rise up and tremble, like a bell pealing through crisp, morning air. Bakura came with a cry of thanksgiving, his nails digging into Kek’s sweating skin. 

Kek’s mouth was on his the moment the tension gave out. Bakura moaned against Kek’s lips as they continued to sway together on top of their nest of cushions. Kek’s kisses were hot and wet. Bakura couldn’t get enough of them and whimpered when Kek pulled away so he could focus on his thrusts. He moaned, and moaned, and moaned, and called out. Bakura felt Kek’s cock, rigid as it found his prostate in repeated strikes that stole Bakura’s breath and made his stomach quiver. 

“Fuck! Bakura… you’re so good. I’m going to come!”

Bakura arched his back and squeezed his muscles to tighten around Kek’s shaft. He hitched his hips up, fucking back and making Kek scream in a frenzy as his orgasm spiralled out. Then he was winding down, pumping lazily into Bakura and then breathing and staring at Bakura with dopey eyes that made Bakura blush. 

“You can take a nap, if you want, but I was going to shower and then go pick out a TV.” Bakura drew little hieroglyphs on Kek’s chest as he brought up the idea. 

“I’ll only go with you if you take me out for dinner first.” Kek grinned. 

“High maintenance.” Bakura snorted, grinning as he winked at Kek. 

They didn’t move, however. They lay half on top of each other, staring into each other’s faces and grinning. Bakura reached up, tracing down Kek’s cheek bone and then combing through his hair. Kek leaned down until their noses touched. 

“I love you.”

“Heh, yeah… I love you too.” Bakura chuckled, happy, frighteningly happy. 

“I think your nails left little water marks in my shoulders.” Kek glanced down at the scarlet crescents painted across his sand-colored shoulders. 

“Couldn’t help myself.” Bakura licked his lips, knowing Kek liked little scratches in bed, little reminders that they’d been through something together. 

“That good, hmmm?” 

“You know it.” Bakura jabbed Kek's chest with his finger.

Kek kissed Bakura’s lips and then pushed himself up to take a shower. Bakura sighed and lay in a crumpled heap in the pillows, too relaxed to want to move, but when Kek came into the room to dress, Bakura forced himself up as well. 

They found a Korean place and gave it a try. Bakura devoured his pork ribs and Kek ordered double dessert, although he shared with Bakura. By the end of the night, they had their first TV set up and a few games to play. They dragged their cushions into the living room so they could lounge together and replay the fighting game they’d first played in the arcade. Mukhfi curled beside Bakura while both ferrets explored the area near Kek’s feet. 

“Cheap bastard. Oh this cheap fucking bastard!” Bakura growled at the screen. 

“Maybe I should grab your ass. That seemed to be the _magic touch_ that helped us win last time.” 

“You can bend me over and pound my ass into the ground if it’ll make this dirty, cheating AI stop blasting fire balls at me before I can land a single fucking punch.” Bakura grit his teeth, button mashing in his anger. 

Kek dropped his control pad after the round ended and slipped behind Bakura. His arms locked around Bakura’s middle and held him close as he started nibbling against the nape of Bakura’s neck. Bakura’s chuckles rumbled from deep within his belly as he tilted his head to the side. 

“You really think you could play like this?” Kek murmured against Bakura’s skin, licking up his neck. 

“We won’t know if it’ll work or not unless we try it.” Bakura smirked as he shifted so Kek could sneak his hands down Bakura’s pants. 

Bakura’s breath hitched. He went back to the title screen and selected a one player game. Kek took his time kissing Bakura’s neck and grazing his fingers along Bakura’s stomach as he sped through the first three challenges. Between the third and fourth round he pulled off Bakura’s shirt so he could pinch his nipples. Bakura felt his eyes lid. He was aware of the game, but couldn’t block out the feeling of Kek’s fingers and lips as the tormented him. By the sixth competitor Kek was stroking Bakura and he was having trouble pulling off combos. Kek pulled Bakura into his lap. 

“So? Is this helping?” Kek asked. 

“It’s helping something.” Bakura hitched up into every stroke. 

“I don’t know. You seem to be losing quite a bit.” 

“It’s all part… _ah-_ of my strategy,” Bakura insisted, leaning hard into Kek’s chest as he felt himself climb. “Don’t stop. Kek, please. Please don’t stop.” 

“Don’t worry.” Kek stroked Bakura a little faster, purring against Bakura’s neck. “I won’t.” 


	23. Chapter 23

Bakura sniffed and ran his arm back and forth across his eyes. Kek was hiccuping sobs as fat tears rolled down his copper cheeks. 

“I told you,” Bakura lectured, trying not to think about it.

“It was totally worth it.” Kek sucked snot back up through his nostrils. 

“It was not,” Bakura insisted.

“Fuck you. I liked the book.” Kek hugged the novel to his chest to prove his point.

“I’m picking the next one!” Bakura wiped at his eyes again. A knock interrupted him. It was a polite, gentle, three raps. Ryou. “Gods. Fucking. Dammit.” Bakura growled as he got up to answer the door. 

“Bakura, are you okay?” Yugi asked.

“Fine,” Bakura snapped, wiping at his eyes again although they were already dry enough. They must have been red, however, judging by the concerned look on Yugi’s face.

“Should we come back later?” Ryou asked. 

“No. Whatever. Get in here.” 

“Have you read this?” Kek asked from the sofa, holding up _Where The Red Fern Grows_. 

“Uuuuh, maybe in school a long time ago?” Yugi scratched the back of his head. “I don’t really remember it.”

Ryou pressed his hand over his mouth, trying to muffled his soft giggles.

“Shut up, Ryou!”

“It’s simply that… it’s very cute, that you both cried because they died.”

“Well, they were dogs, not people, so I care what happens to them.” Kek gave an indignant snort toward Ryou. 

“Yeah, we’re not cruel- to animals.” Bakura laughed. 

Mukhfi appeared from between the sofa cushions, sniffing and crawling toward Ryou as soon as he saw him. 

“Oh, there’s my buddy!” Ryou scooped up the tanuki into his arms and showered his forehead with kisses. 

“Don’t spoil him.” Bakura crossed his arms over his chest, trying to restore his cantankerous honor. 

“Why not? You do all the time.” Kek snorted laughter. 

“I brought you a treat.” Ryou ignored Bakura, fishing through his bag and bringing out three large shrimp for the tanuki to grab. Ryou looked up at Bakura. “We could skip the story today, if you’d like.”

“I’m fine.”

“Of course you are.” Ryou set Mukhfi back onto the couch and wiped his hand on his jeans. 

“There’s not much else to tell, really. Except how we met in the Shadow Realm and came back.”

“I kicked his ass.” Kek stuck out his long tongue and grinned. 

“As if you could!” Bakura shouted. 

“I totally murdered him.”

“We both collapsed. Exhausted from fighting.”

“I was chilling. You looked tired, so I thought I’d take a nap so things didn’t get rushed.”

“On top of me?” Bakura asked.

Kek shrugged. Bakura sat beside him and grabbed his hand, touching his palms and examining his fingernails. 

“You don’t bite your nails anymore. They were bloody in the Shadow Realm.” 

“You make it sound like you were holding hands in the Shadow Realm.” Yugi held his stomach as he laughed. He plopped down in front of the TV and scanned their video game collection. 

Bakura’s cheeks heated, and while Kek was too dark to blush, he looked flustered. 

“Oh my god, you _did_ ,” Ryou said. 

“There’s no way, Ryou. I was only teasing them.” Yugi shook his head.

“Look at them. They look guilty, and Bakura never looks guilty.”

Yugi looked up. “You guys _didn’t_.” 

“Not exactly!” Bakura shouted.

“We only… hugged a little.” Kek shrugged. 

“First of all, I think all fights should end with hugs,” Yugi began, “but I need to know… why? What made you guys hug? In the middle of a fight? It sounds… unreal.” 

“Psh, you don’t know anything, Yugi.” Bakura scowled. 

“You were tired.” Ryou said, drawing the ugly orange flowers on the arm of the couch. “Exhausted. Everything was dark and empty, even you, and something in you _yearned_ for _anything_ , so you clung to each other because you were the only two real things in an expanse of non-existence.”

Bakura clutched his chest where the five scars sat beneath his shirt. Ryou spoke with a melancholy that went beyond deduction. He knew the feeling, somehow. The feeling of being empty, of needing to stare at cracks in the ceiling to make sure reality was actually there and not an illusion. Bakura wondered what happened to him while Bakura had sank deeper into the Shadow Realm.

“Let’s skip talking for today. Your video game collection is getting pretty good. Let’s go through it,” Ryou suggested, and Bakura was grateful for the excuse to change subjects. 

***

“Chie, don’t you have a potion that increases dexterity?” Ryou asked. 

She nodded, gritting her teeth. Bakura smirked at Ryou’s futile attempt at organizing them. 

“And Ko, how are you on mana?”

“Half.”

“Kek, do you still have that silver dagger you won last week?”

“It’s in my boot.” 

“Okay, I have a plan. Just hold out for five rounds guys.” 

“Easier said than done.” Hazuki snorted. 

“I’m going to hide behind the trees for a moment.”

“Roll,” Bakura said. 

“I’ll make noise to lure their attention toward me while he does it,” Kek volunteered. 

Ryou’s roll was mediocre, but high enough to succeed with Kek jumping and screaming. The problem was that now three werewolves were chasing after Kek. 

“I use my acrobatics to jump into the trees above.” 

He rolled high enough that the swiping claws didn’t snag him. Hazuki shot at them with a crossbow, but her arrows weren’t silver, so they did little damage that healed each turn. 

“Can I befriend one of them?” Yugi asked. 

“Roll.”

“He rolled a 60, not enough to calm down a triad of angry werewolves.” 

“You’re lucky they're distracted with Kek, or you’d be torn to shreds,” Bakura said. 

“Can I use my torch to set one of the fallen trunks on fire? I have oil.” Chie asked. 

“It takes two turns. One to dump the oil all over the wood, and one to light it.”

“Okay, I hold the torch in my hand and pull the oil cork with my teeth to dump it and keep the werewolves away with my torch at the same time.” 

“They’re all still trying to get Kek out of the tree, but one breaks off to attack Hazuki because her arrows are getting annoying.” 

“I pull the rope I layed out as a trap earlier,” Ko interrupted before Bakura could finish narrating.

Bakura gave him a smug look. There was not way a stupid rope trap like that could- and he rolled a fumble. Yeah. Fuck. Bakura sighed. 

“The wolf trips over the rope and falls face first into the dirt. She’s stunned for two rounds.” 

“So you didn’t run away, you coward.” Hazuki snorted.

“No. I was also hiding, and you’re welcome.” 

The next round Chie lit the log and the fire made the wolves back away a bit. Before they could recover and attack, Ryou was done using several runes to freeze the werewolves in place and making it far too easy for Kek to cut their throats with his silver dagger. They didn’t even need the potions or spells that Ryou had asked about since the fire had scared them away instead. Bakura was forced to give them a generous amount of experience, the werewolf pelts, a chest of treasure, and the quest item they were after.

“Okay, this is a good place to quit for the night,” Bakura said. 

“Just a little longer,” Ryou begged. 

“Ryou, I’m falling asleep.” Yugi yawned. 

“Oh fine. I suppose we can stop for the night.” 

“Okay everyone. Get the fuck out of my house now- but don’t forget to text so I know you made it home safely.” 

“Okay mom.” Chie laughed, waving goodbye as she and Hazuki grabbed their things. 

Ko went around, forcing hugs on everyone as usual. Bakura closed the door behind him and sighed when they were gone. 

“See Ryou, even Bakura’s tired.” Yugi unrolled his sleeping bag. 

It had somehow became habit for them to spend the night after gaming so they didn’t have to take a train back to Domino in the middle of the night. 

“I’m not tired.” Bakura yawned. 

“Like hell you’re not. We’re going to bed.” Kek hoisted Bakura into the air, slung Bakura over his shoulder, and carried him toward their bedroom.

Bakura smirked, waiving goodnight to Yugi and Ryou as he was carried off. Kek dropped Bakura onto their pile of cushions and wrapped them up in their blanket. Bakura exhaled, closing his eyes and allowing himself to drown in the warmth of Kek’s body as he circled his arms around Bakura’s waist. 

“The hostel is finished. We should go visit Tomoko next weekend and see it.”

“Okay. Friday after work. We’ll spend the night and come back Saturday before Ryou and Yugi come over.” 

Bakura squeezed Kek’s hands- the bandages gone and the burns healed. He knew Kek worried about Tomoko. The police had arrested the tenants that caused the fire a week after it happened, but that wasn’t going to stop Kek from thinking about it. Bakura knew that from experience. 

“I’m going to get her a guard dog,” Kek said.

“That’s a good idea.” 

“You think so? I was expecting a lecture about pets.” 

“If they’re not in our house, they’re not my problem.” Bakura nudged back a little to tease Kek. 

“I can’t stop thinking. What if we’re not there next time? She’s all alone in that house, except when she’s not, and that’s worse.” 

“A dog’s a good idea. She’s not allergic is she?” 

“She used to have one, I asked, but he died and she was too sad to get a new puppy, but she said it’d be okay if I got her one.” 

Bakura nodded. They both fell asleep before they could continue the conversation. Bakura woke up before dawn, having to pee. He stumbled to the bathroom, and by the time he finished, he decided to make a cup of coffee and sit outside. He tiptoed through the kitchen and living room, careful not to wake the birds or Yugi and Ryou. The morning air held a bite to it. Bakura shivered and held the cup closer to himself as he dropped down to the concrete near the door. The clouds stuck to the gray sky like wet feathers. Orange licked up the horizon, but the world was still somber and sleeping. 

Bakura sipped from his cup, sighing. He thought about his life, how ordinary it’d become, and how luxurious it felt to live so plainly. He jerked his head when the door opened and shut again. Ryou stepped out. His hair hung down his shoulders and back. It reminded Bakura of the ghosts of his village. Bakura’s own hair was twisted into a knot. He always thought about cutting it, but never bothered and kept sweeping it up instead. 

“Morning,” Ryou pulled in a deep, morning breath and then exhaled. “I stole a cup of coffee. I hope that’s alright.” 

“Seriously?” Bakura gave Ryou an unimpressed look. 

“Well, it’s not your body, but I thought it’d be polite to ask before taking it.” Ryou sat down beside him. After a moment of quiet, Ryou spoke up again. “Pegasus is dead.”

“Yugi didn’t have what it would have taken to get all the Items.”

“Shadi is also dead.”

“Never liked the guy. Do you have any idea how many necks he swung the Ring around like a noose? I think the bastard got off on watching people burn.” 

“You have an excuse for everyone you killed, don’t you.” 

“Do you want me to be sorry? Because I’m not. Not for any of them.” 

“Hmmm,” Ryou hummed as he brought the thrift store coffee cup up to his lips. “Why didn’t you go back to being a thief when you came back?” 

“I did. I stole a duel disk and some cards and hustled games for enough money for food and a hostel. That’s how we ended up at Tomoko’s place.” Bakura shook his head, grinning. “It was Kek, y’know. He had most of Malik’s memories, but knowledge and experience are different things and everything was new to him. He wanted to try normal life, so I went along for the ride.” 

“Do you ever regret it?”

“I never regret.” 

“So how did you escape from the Shadow Realm?”

“We didn’t.” 

“No?” Ryou looked up at Bakura over his coffee.

“No. We fought and collapsed on top of each other and then… well, you already guessed. Everything was empty. The despair had me hollow. We were already stacked on top of each other and that somehow turned into an embrace, and then-” Bakura started laughing- _laughing_. “It threw us away. The darkness puked us up like bad chow mein. I supposed the gods didn’t want us either. We were trash in a gutter. We ended up in a alley in the rain, and we stuck together because we didn’t have anything else.” 

“You’re not trash.” Ryou set his his coffee down and rose up to his knees. 

“We’re trying, but I know I’m still garbage.” Bakura shook his head. 

“You’re not trash!” Ryou flung his arms around Bakura. 

“Dammit, Ryou, don’t be like this.”

“What? Caring?”

“Pretty sure I’m allergic to caring. I’ll break out in hives.” 

“You’re a softy and you damn well know it.” Ryou pulled back and took his coffee into his hand. 

“Are you satisfied now? There’s not much else to tell. We didn’t want to work for the Yakuza. Being an evil asshole who murders and thieves is one thing, but the bigger crime rings get into some shit that _we_ didn’t even feel comfortable doing, so I got a real job. We saved money. Got an apartment-”

“Made friends.” Ryou grinned.

“I guess.” Bakura rolled his eyes. 

“We’re not going to stop now are we? Gaming?”

“Hell no we’re not going to stop. Monster World for life, Ryou.”

“Good.” Ryou laughed. “I was afraid you’d kill off my and Yugi’s characters and tell us to never come back.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely kill your characters if I get a chance, so don’t slack off in our games because I have no mercy.”

“Maybe I could DM the next game?” Ryou asked. “I have a good one I’ve been wanting to do, but Yugi’s the only one that plays enough.” 

“Sure, we’ll switch out after this story finishes out.” 

“When I first realized you were back I sobbed until I threw up.” Ryou shook his head. “I was so upset. I was sure you were going to do something horrible to Yugi. I really can’t stand losing anyone else. I’d shatter.”

“Ryou, you can’t be alive without losing people, and it terrifies me as much as it does you, but that’s one of the things that makes all this real.”

“I know.” Ryou wiped away a tear. “I was still relieved when I saw the video, and recognized Diabound. Seeing him change… I’m not sure I would have believed it unless I saw it for myself.” 

“I wasn’t thinking, just acting.”

“Exactly,” Ryou said. 

“Look, I’m not sorry for the things I did, but I’m sorry I dragged you along for the ride.” 

“Thank you, for saying that.” 

“And if someone ever tries to mess with you or Yugi in the future, they’ll have to go through Kek and I first.” 

“Told you that you’re a big softy. You even included Yugi.”

“Eh, he wasn’t the Pharaoh. Not directly.” 

The door opened again and Kek stumbled out yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Here you are, Kura. I’m not used to waking up without you in my arms.” 

“There’s coffee.” Bakura raised and lowered his cup.

“In a minute.” Kek sat on Bakura’s other side, grabbed his arm, and pressed his forehead against Bakura’s shoulder. 

Bakura’s smile came without permission. He leaned over and kissed the crown of Kek’s hair. The sun was breaking in the sky now, and beams of marigold and bright orange streaked through Kek’s wild hair. 

“I think it’s time to plan our camping trip.” 

“Fuck yes.” Kek lifted his head to grin. 

“Oh, you like to go camping? We should all go.”

“Next time.” Bakura pushed his lips together. “This trip is a private one. We’ll have to move the gaming night that week to Friday.” 

“That’s fine.” Ryou grinned. “Are you going to teach him to summon his ka?” 

“Will you stop figuring everything out already?” Bakura growled. “It’s really annoying.”

“I’m not apologizing.” Ryou laughed. “Would you teach me? I want to learn.” 

“Yeah, I don’t see why not.” Bakura groaned. “But like I said, next time.”

“Thank you. How about I go make breakfast and give you to some privacy?” Ryou finished his coffee and went back inside. 

“What are you even doing awake?” Kek asked.

“Watching the sunrise, I guess. Seems… too human, doesn’t it?”

“Nah. It’s a good idea, and it’s beautiful.”

“Especially in your hair.” Bakura combed through Kek’s hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, my brain is revolting b/c I've been editing too much and getting ridiculous. So at the beginning of this chapter when Bakura was saying they didn't hold hands, just hugged a little it made me think of chibi versions of everyone in the Shadow Realm like:
> 
> Zorc: Bakura, Bakrua
> 
> Bakura: Yes Papa?
> 
> Zorc: Hugging boys?
> 
> Bakura *while cuddling with Kek*: No papa
> 
> Zorc: Telling lies?
> 
> Bakura *still cuddling with Kek*: No papa
> 
> And that's how they got kicked out of the Shadow Realm


	24. Chapter 24

Bakura was in a good mood. He had enough money for the down deposit he wanted. He’d met with someone at the bank and worked out the rest of the loan terms before calling the real estate agent and putting in a bid. He still wasn’t going to mention anything to Kek- in case the people turned Bakura’s offer down- but even if this one didn’t work out, he’d find another. Bakura walked down the street with his hands shoved into his pockets, humming to himself.

His good mood dropped into his stomach when he saw the little sandy-colored warthog with a pink bow next to her ear. She was tied up in front of their apartment and eating the small patch of grass struggling to grow next to the walkway. The door opened and Kek walked out in dark jeans and a button up shirt. Bakura smiled, amused that he always dressed a little nicer whenever they visited Tomoko, but then his grin dropped as he pointed to the warthog. 

“Please tell me she isn’t ours.” 

“Her name is Kinoko, and she’s mom’s new guard dog.”

“Um, Kek-”

“I know she’s not a dog, Bakura, so don’t give me that look.”

“Then why’d-”

“I was using guard dog as a figure of speech!” 

“But _why the fuck a warthog?_ ” 

“Because she’s precious and ferocious.” Kek was petting the “ferocious” piglet like she was a kitten. He fastened a leash to her pink, rhinestone collar and hitched his thumb behind him. “Get the bags, Bakura.”

Bakura sputtered for a moment, indignant at Kek’s high-maintenance girlfriend attitude, but in the end it was easier to growl and grab Kek’s things than try to reason with an Ishtar, so Bakura grabbed their two overnight bags and let Kek have his moment of fun walking Tomoko’s new pet. He was rather sure they were going to get kicked off the train and be forced to pay for a cab all the way to Domino, but no one said anything as they entered the car. Kinoko sniffed around Kek’s feet, and then around Bakura’s. If the dumb thing was searching for grass, she wasn’t going to find any in the train car. Bakura snorted and stared out the window and the world rushing by in order to forget that he was riding a train with a damn warthog of all things. 

“Tomoko’s going to think you’re nuts,” Bakura said after they exited the train and started walking toward the rebuilt hostel. “Since when did they even start selling these things in pet shops?”

“I bought her from one of the customers. He lives in the country near Dixit, but he was nice enough to drive her to the pet store for me the next time he came in for dog food.”

“Dog food, because even the warthog guy knew enough to keep a dog and sell the pig.” 

“Shut up. Kinoko is amazing and I will throw a fucking plate at your head if you argue.” 

“Gonna throw one of your mom’s plates at my head?” Bakura smirked. 

“I can hold a grudge until we get back home.”

“Okay, _that_ I believe, so I surrender.” Bakura held up both of his hands. “Don’t wreck our plates. I don’t want to use any of our savings right now.”

“What are we buying next? A real bed?” 

“Probably, but let’s hold off for a little longer. Won’t hurt to save a little more.” 

“Look! The new place looks great!” Kek saw the fresh painted wood of the new house and jogged to rush to the porch. 

Kinoko trotted beside him on her leash, but Bakura continued to walk. Tomoko appeared on the porch, wiping her hands on her apron. Kek grabbed her in a hug and spun her. She looked fragile in Kek’s excited embrace. He could have snapped her, if he’d still been the Shadow he once was, but instead he kissed her cheek, and set her down, and knelt beside Kinoko.

“Oh my goodness,” Tomoko said. 

“Her name is Kinoko.”

“She’s very pretty.” 

“Do you really think so?” Kek asked, nervous now that he was talking to Tomoko and not Bakura. 

“Yes. I promise I’ll take good care of her.” Tomoko wrapped her arms around Kek, her hug much more gentle than Kek’s had been. “Thank you.” 

Kek giggled as if Tomoko’s gentleness tickled. They put Kinoko in the back yard and got her water. Bakura watched, a little from a distance. He wasn’t trying to be antisocial. He simply loved watching Kek’s face when he spoke to her. He didn’t know what to expect in a few weeks when they went camping, but he was eager to see Kek’s ka because he knew it would be… bright. 

“So do we get a tour of the inside?” Bakura asked once their conversation had died down.

“It’s mostly the same. New furniture, since nothing was salvageable. Fortunately a lot of people donated things.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I should have killed them before they-” Kek whispered. 

“Stop fretting, dear. We’re all fine, and look around. It’s not exactly the same, but it’s all nice, isn’t it?” Tomoko squeezed his hand. 

“Yes.” Kek nodded. 

“See? Everything’s okay. Rebuilt isn’t a bad thing.”

“Hmph, yeah, I know what you’re trying to say.” Kek returned the little squeeze she gave his hand. 

“Well, there is something missing.” Bakura hummed, pulling out his phone.

“Oh? What’s that?” she asked him. 

“No family photos on the wall. Smile.” 

He slipped between them, still a thief in his movements if not his deeds, and held up his cellphone. Tomoko frowned. She wasn’t a fan of cell phones or selfies; Kek had fussed for a long time to get the other picture of them. Bakura merely poked her in the ribs, tickling enough to pull a smile from her lips. He clicked three quick pictures and shoved his phone back in his pocket. 

“We’ll print one and put it in a frame for you.” 

“You both are such good kids.” She messed up Bakura’s hair.

Bakura snorted. Granny pulled that on him all the time, and he was catching himself talking about Chie and Ko the same way, but it made sense when _he_ did it because they _were_ kids. He should have been the one calling Granny a good kid as well. She was only 82. That was nothing compared to 3,000-and-who-the-fuck-even-knew-how-many-more. 

“Dinner’s ready if you’re hungry.” 

Kek grabbed Bakura’s hand and dragged him toward the kitchen. Bakura snickered. He was hungry as well, but not as excitable as Kek about dinner. At least, not until he saw the spread on the table. There was bowls piled up with onigiri, hand rolls, a pot of curry, and gyoza. Bakura’s mouth watered when the scent of the curry hit him. It was odd sitting down at a different kitchen table, but soon they were all talking and passing dishes, and the newness of the rebuild kitchen faded as they fell back into their old habits. And when they went to sleep that night, it took a few extra moments to settle into a different bed, but Kek’s arms were the same around him, and Tomoko was right. Rebuilt wasn’t a bad thing.

***

“Order up!” Bakura shouted and then jogged back to the fryers where he had shrimp tempura cooking. 

“Carrots, onions, and daikon are chopped.” Chie rushed around around the prep table. “Need cabbage?”

“Yes.” Bakura grunted while he put down three more orders of noodles. 

He was going to have to hire a new dishwasher and probably another server. Chie was great in the kitchen, but she was becoming too valuable as a prep cook, and they were busy enough to have the extra help. More and more Granny sat down and spoke to the customers- unless it was so busy that Ko couldn’t keep up no matter how fast he moved. Bakura noticed the tell-tale signs of her hip hurting as she moved before she sat down, and he wondered how much she’d curse at him if he suggested she become a hostess. 

Although… Bakura knew he’d inevitably be murdered the day he couldn’t hold it in anymore and screamed something like _hostess with the mostess_. Then it’d be it. She’d stab him with his own chef’s knife, and he’d bleed out on the floor. His last words would be to have them slice him up and serve him rare on top of the daily special. Bakura shook his head as he plated the next order. He was hanging out with Ryou too much and his daydreams were becoming morbid because of it. One would think Kek would be the bad influence, but no- Ryou. Ryou was as dark and sinister as Kek ever was during a Shadow Game. The only difference was Ryou was cute about it while Kek was a little too serious. 

“Order up!” Bakura called.

“Got it~” Ko sang, whisking the bowls away and sashaying through the crowds to avoid bumping into people. 

“Is it next week that you’re going camping?” Chie asked. She finished slicing cabbage and was removing the stems off of mushrooms while Bakura sliced pork. 

“Yes. We’ll game Friday.” 

“We’re about at the final boss, aren’t we?”

“Hmmm, I wonder?” Bakura snickered as he set up the next order and called it out. “You’ll just have to be prepared for anything.” 

After an hour, they all sat around the table on stools. The rush was over and Bakura’s feet ached. He did not want to clean the store, but he knew the sooner they started, the sooner they could all go home.

“If we get this done in less than an hour, I’ll buy _okonomiyaki_ for everyone.” 

***

This time Bakura was prepared. He’d bought some bath oils, lavender and sweet orange, and had the temperature almost too hot as Kek showered. While Kek was distracted, Bakura snatched the silicone lube and prepared himself off to the side so Kek couldn’t see what he was doing. He’d done his research online, finding some fancy black and platinum bottle of lube that was supposed to last longer even in water. It certainly stuck to his hands like magic. Bakura gave up trying to wipe it all off on his towel when he heard the shower stop, and stepped into the bathwater instead.

Kek was careful to step on the mat between the shower and tub so that he didn’t drip on the tile. When he looked up, Bakura lidded his gaze at Kek. Bakura reached up and pulled the tie from his hair, allowing the spray of white to tumble down. The tips dipped into the hot water, dancing like sea snakes around Bakura’s arms and behind his back. 

Kek swallowed as he stared. He looked dazed, and Bakura enjoyed it. Bakura’s own gaze swept up and down Kek’s naked body, noting each curve and the cute little belly Kek had developed from all their late nights of cake and cream-puff gaming sessions. Wrap a shenti around his waist and he would have blended perfectly in Ancient Egypt, a battle-sorcerer on a war field ready to summon the very secrets of Thoth and use them to fell dozens before his feet. 

“The water smells good, and you look really tempting.” Kek’s voice was gruff, and it made Bakura’s belly hitch. 

“You look pretty good yourself. Why don’t you come over here? The water’s _hot_.” 

“Is it?” Kek arched an eyebrow. 

“Trust me, this is going to be the most _steamy_ bath you’ve ever had in your life.” 

“Careful now, I’ve read that hot baths can raise your blood pressure.” Kek grinned as he walked toward the tub. 

“Trust me, your blood pressure won’t be the only thing up.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Kek teased as he swung his legs into the tub and sat down on his favorite ledge. He lidded his eyes, tongue lolling out of the corner of his mouth. “I think my heart is racing.” 

“Hope you’re on good terms with god, because I’m about to send you straight to heaven.” Bakura crawled into Kek’s lap. 

He straddled Kek’s legs, knees digging into the ledge Kek sat on. Bakura rose up, looking at Kek. They both smirked as their noses bumped. Bakura stared at him until the last moment, but when their lips touched, his eyes closed. Their kisses were as moist and warm as the steam floating around their faces. Bakura’s fingers danced down Kek’s chest. When he grabbed Kek’s cock, he found it hard, but he stroked it until it was fat and rigid before he situated himself right over Kek’s cockhead.

Bakura took a few deep breaths. He remembered the last time they tried this- the first time he’d ever tried to indulged himself on top of Kek’s cock. It hadn’t worked then, but as Bakura slid lower the lube did its job and Bakura settled all the way down Kek’s shaft with a sweet, bell-like sigh. Bakura pulled back up and dropped down, rolling his body as he moved. 

“That’s right, move. Fuck yourself senseless on my cock,” Kek growled. The fingers of his left hand twined around Bakura’s hair as his right hand clutched Bakura’s left hip. 

Bakura moaned at Kek’s voice, his words, the way his cock sent shivers up Bakura’s stomach each time he rolled his hips down before squeezing his thighs and then lifting himself back up. His cock, surrounded by warm water, begged to be touched, stroked, jerked, but Bakura dug his nails into Kek’s shoulders and kept rocking his body over Kek’s cock, delaying his own orgasm. Bakura tightened his muscles, flirting with the edge of climax, but unable to break to the peak of it without touching himself.

“ _Mmmmmmm_ , Kek,” Bakura hissed. 

“Yes, ride me. You fucking thief, ride this cock like it’s a stolen horse.” 

Bakura cracked a grin, liking the reference. Moving in the water was a different sensation. The warmth hugged his body, but he had to really use the muscles in his ass and belly to slam down as fast and hard as he wanted to. Kek whimpered. His face twisted into a knot as he panted through his mouth. The sight of his face, cute and erotic both at once, encouraged Bakura to go harder, moving with intent, squeezing as tightly as he could with his inner ring in order to stay tight around Kek’s engorged cock. 

“ _Ah_!” Bakura gasped, close, close, close, close, close. 

“ _Ohhh_! _Ohhhh, Bakura! Ohhh! Ohh! Ohh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Aaaaaaaaaah!_ ” Kek threw back his head as he screamed.

“ _Hah! Hah! Hah!_ You’re… blushing.” Bakura gasped as he started winding down, enjoying the last few moments of Kek’s cock while his dick was still hard.

“Bakura.” 

Kek pushed his forehead against Bakura’s chest. He was sweating above the water, and flushed, and out of breath, and it was everything Bakura had wanted that day, and now he was getting it all and it felt so good that it could only be real. Illusions didn’t know that deep, consuming satisfaction of earned victory.

“Bakura, I want you.” Kek’s nails sank into Bakura’s sides, painting his skin with scarlet sickles. He growled, an animal overcome by need. “Bakura, I need you.” 

“ _Ah_ ,” Bakura gasped as he pulled away. He swam to the other side of the tub and grabbed his bottle of _Wet_ , and re-coated his hand. 

Kek twisted around, bracing his hands on the lip of the tub and spreading his knees out like Bakura had although there was no one sitting there to straddle. It put Kek in a good position for Bakura to slip his fingers into him. As he worked on relaxing Kek’s rectal muscles, Bakura kissed up Kek’s scarred back.

“Do the oils help your scars?” Bakura asked, the bitter taste of them clung to Kek’s skin, but that didn’t stop Bakura from kissing Kek’s back one column at a time. 

“It’s good.” Kek sighed. Bakura could hear in his voice that he was sleepy from his orgasm. 

“Good. Good.” Bakura smiled against Kek’s back. “Are you ready?” 

“Fuck yes I’m ready you sexy bitch. Pound my ass.” 

Bakura grunted, a sound mixed between arousal and laughter. He held Kek’s hips and rested one knee on the ledge, keeping the other leg straight and pressed against the tub floor. He felt the drain touching his heel, and Bakura nudged his foot a bit to the side so he didn’t kick the drain loose. 

He pressed his hips forward. His cock glided into Kek with ease because of the lube. Bakura pushed himself as close as possible, keeping his thrusts deep with both of his arms wrapped around Kek’s belly to keep his balance. 

“More, more, more, more, godsdammit more!” Kek cried out as Bakura pushed in again and again. 

Bakura kept going. Water splashed onto the floor. The wet smacking of water on tile sounded similar to the sound of their bodies slapping together. He held his rhythm, rocking in and out of Kek as he held him. Ten minutes later, Bakura’s arms tensed. A whine escaped his throat as he drew close. 

“That’s right, you bastard, come!” 

Bakura whined again and buried his face against Kek’s scars. Their bodies hitched together, not fast, but deep and strong hikes- Kek shoving back as Bakura pushed forward. They held like that, and held like that, and _oh! Oh! Oh!_ Until the last moment when Bakura couldn’t take it anymore and rocked a little faster. His toes curled as he came inside of Kek.

“Hot damn.” Kek purred as he slumped back into his spot. 

Bakura drained the water. He sat in Kek’s lap and they shivered together and talked about their jobs as they waited for all the water to drain. Once it was mostly clean, they filled it back up with hot water again. Bakura added more bathing oil and then curled against Kek’s chest so they could relax together. 

“This is one of my favorite things in the whole world.” Kek sighed. 

“I love you,” Bakura muttered into Kek’s chest as he watched the water with a half-lidded gaze. Suddenly, it was an easy thing to say. The words slipped off of his tongue as if it were coated in pure silicone. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” 

Kek pulled Bakura into his chest, crushing him in that favorite way of Bakura’s. 

“Yes.” Kek cooed in returned. “I love you, too. You’re one of the things in this reality full of peeling paint and cracked asphalt that keeps my world bright.” 


	25. Chapter 25

It went through. Everything went through. Bakura’s fake identification and a credit history didn’t set off any red flags when the bank looked at his application, so he was going to have to thank Ryou later for helping him with some of the more difficult details. Perhaps his thanks would take the form of some Monster World crafting materials and a box of cream puffs. 

Bakura had signed the last of the papers in the afternoon during his lunch break- so many fucking papers. Sometimes the modern world pissed Bakura the fuck off. Didn’t matter though. It was his now, well, technically it was the bank’s until he paid off the mortgage, but he had keys, which was what mattered. 

There was just one thing left to do. 

He’d already chosen the puppies at the shelter. He specifically wanted mutts. No fancy-pants pedigree dogs for Kek, oh fuck no. Bakura hopped on the bus and rode to the shelter where the two rescued strays waited for him. He wore a backpack, and it had collars and leashes that Ryou had bought for him at one of the Domino pet stores- because there was no way Bakura could go to the local one without Kek finding out about it and asking questions. 

The dogs wagged their tails when they saw Bakura walk into the back room. Bakura suspected it was the faint smell of fried pork that clung to him from his work clothes that had them all so excited. He saw the two he wanted in the far back. They were mottled, white, gray, and blonde patches all scrambled together. The lady at the desk walked ahead of Bakura and unlocked their cage. 

“These two, right?” 

“Yes.” 

They ran to him, and jumped up onto his thighs. Bakura knelt and rubbed the tops of both their heads at the same time.

“They received their shots already. You’ll need to bring them to a vet for boosters once a year.” 

He only half listened. Vet trips were Kek’s problem. Bakura already thought he was out of his mind for encouraging Kek’s pet-hoarding, but Kek wanted dogs more than anything. How many times had they sat in the bath together while Kek rambled about the puppies at the store? Kek’s growing book collection was filled with them as well, and if they saw someone walking their dog on their way to the arcade, Kek always knelt down and started talking directly to the dog- never the people, only their dogs- although he never petted them without permission. 

Now here Bakura was, filling out adoption papers and fastening collars onto the puppies necks. The first one read _Old Dan,_ and the second read _Little Ann_. Bakura took the puppies home. Not the new house. He didn’t trust them alone there. He took them _home_ , and that meant to where Kek was- their current apartment. Bakura walked in and laughed as the puppies sniffed the sofa before steering clear of it. At least the mutts weren’t dumb. 

“Hey Bakura, I made dinner- oh my gods! Puppies!” Kek jumped to the floor and allowed the two dogs to clamber on top of him. His entire face scrunched up as he giggled while they licked his checks. 

“It’s been a year since we left the Shadow Realm, so I guess they’re your anniversary present.” 

“What?” Kek shouted like he didn’t quite believe what he heard. “They’re… you bought me _puppies_?” 

Bakura grinned, his entire body warm. Kek’s face was glowing, and his tumble on the floor had his hair in a messier state than usual. Bakura shut the front door and sat down on the arm of the couch.

“Heh, yeah, but no more pets for real now, okay?” 

Kek looked at the name tags and his face crinkled with emotion. “Those names. I’m losing my shit right now, Bakura. This is the best present- but I… we… but Bakura, we can’t have dogs in a one bedroom apartment.”

“You’re right. Hmmm…” Bakura pursed his lips, pretending to think. “Well, let’s take them on a walk. That should at least tire them out before everyone crowds in for gaming night, right?”

Kek stood up, holding the leashes and leading the dogs out of the door. “I mean, you’re scheming something, right? You wouldn't get me puppies just to take them away. You were never quite _that_ cruel.” 

“Damn, I _should have been_. That would have hurt the Pharaoh more than I ever actually managed.” Bakura held Kek’s free hand, both leashes twisted around Kek’s right knuckles. 

“But you’re planning something, right?”

“Me? Planning? I would _never_.” Bakura gasped, insulted that Kek would even _think_ such a thing. 

“Are they staying at Granny’s? Or did you find a bigger apartment? Is there like a doggy daycare in town that I somehow don’t know about? What the fuck, Bakura you have to tell me.” 

“Eh, you’ll live for ten more minutes while we walk leisurely in this direction for no particular reason.” 

“Bakura, I am going to have an anxiety attack and start crying in the middle of the street if you don’t-”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Bakura squeezed Kek’s hand. “Don’t freak out. I’m sorry. I forget you take animals a lot more seriously than you ever took people.” Bakura sighed and pulled his hand away from Kek’s so he could plunge it into his pocket and pull out the house key. He slipped it into Kek’s hand. “This is the second half of your present.” 

“A key? So you did find a bigger apartment? Does it have a yard?”

“It’s not exactly an apartment, but it does have a yard- oh shut-up and wait until we get there. I want to _show_ you. Not chat about it.” 

“I’m going to cry.”

“Kek!”

“From happiness you stupid asshole!”

Little Ann barked at Bakura, as if to remind him he better stay in line. Bakura huffed at the pup and fixed his gaze on Kek. Kek’s brow was wrinkled as he struggled to hold in his emotions. Bakura smiled, excited to see how Kek would react when he saw the house.

“It’s still in the broke-ass part of town, but at least it’s close to our jobs. And it has a good tub. I made sure of that. There was no way I could give up our baths together. The tub is a little smaller, but it’s deep and I’m pretty sure I can fuck your brains out in it just as well as in our current one.”

They got to their new place. Bakura held the gate open for Kek and the dogs. Climbing roses suffocated the wrought iron bars, so Bakura had to watch his hands for thorns, but he didn’t mind. A little scratch was worth the look on Kek’s face as he saw the little, two-bedroom brick house.

“Bakura, this is a _house_.” 

“Yes.”

“You rented a house?”

“No. I bought a house.” 

“ _You bought a house_?”

“Yes.” Bakura stood on his toes so he could kiss the tip of Kek’s nose. “I want us to live here until we’re old. Together.” 

“I’m going to faint.” Kek stomped up the porch, leaning against the wooden door. 

“Don’t fall on the dogs.” 

“You fucking bought me dogs. You fucking bought us a house. You fucking, godsdamn, stupid bastard- where did you get the money for this?”

“I got a loan, and well… I might not have told you exactly how much of a raise Granny gave me. I wanted this to be a surprise.” 

“I’m pretty fucking surprised all right.”

Kek’s hand shook as he fitted the key into the lock. He opened the door and the pups ran inside like they knew it was technically theirs. Bakura walked inside, pointing as he spoke. “Kitchen’s here. Guest bedroom is here. I figure we can make it up nice enough that Tomoko can visit once in a while. And Ryou and Yugi will probably be happy to have a place to sleep on gaming nights. There’s a half bath there. The main bathroom is upstairs with the master bedroom. Want to see?”

Kek nodded, His eyes were huge and shimmering. He hoisted Bakura into his arms and carried him bridal style up the stairs. Bakura laughed, but Kek didn’t put him down until they were in the bathroom. The tub was deep and circular, but more than big enough for both of them to stretch their legs out as they sat together.

“It looks like a bucket.” Kek chuckled as he wiped a tear out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, this place is old as dirt, but I figured hell, so am I and I hold together pretty well.”

Kek grabbed Bakura by his hair and pulled him in for a kiss. It was violent, like their first meeting. They clashed and fought for breath. After a moment their mouths settled together with more fluid motions. Kek nudged Bakura forward until his back pressed against the wall. He trailed kisses down Bakura’s neck, biting and sucking as hard as he liked. Bakura didn’t object. Let them tease him at work- Kek’s mouth on his skin was too good to care. 

Little yips made Kek pull away. They went to the stairwell and saw Little Ann and Old Dan sitting at the base of the stairs and whining for Kek to come and rescue them. 

“Why are you boneheads scared? Climb up here.” Kek patted his thighs and whistled. 

Old Dan whined, but Little Ann put her front paws on the first step, sniffing. She looked up at Kek and whimpered. He chuckled and climbed down two-thirds of the way before sitting on the steps and calling both dogs by name. Ann pulled herself up the first step, and then the second. Once she was on the third step, Old Dan finally climbed after her. 

“Come on. Good puppies. Come on.” Kek whistled. He scooped Ann up into his arms and kissed her face. That made Dan rush the rest of the way, and soon Kek’s arms were full of dogs. 

“Oh dear gods, you’re going to let them sleep in bed with us, aren’t you.”

“Look, if you didn’t want me to have dogs, you shouldn’t have bought me dogs.”

Bakura snorted, crossing his arms and pretending he was inconvenienced by the entire fiasco. They finished their tour, each of them with a leash in hand, and investigated the small garden and yard in the back.

“We’ll still have to take them on walks, and I figure they can go camping with us, but this yard should be big enough for them to get some exercise in.” 

“It’s perfect.” Kek kissed up the side of Bakura’s face. 

“I saw a wasps’ nest, so maybe not perfect.”

“It’s perfect.” Kek pressed their foreheads together. “‘Kura… thank you.” 

“I should be the one thanking you. You’re the one that said, ‘hey let’s be real people for a change’ and because you did-” Bakura started laughing. He couldn’t quite put it into words. But, because of Kek, their lives were good. 

And for the first time since he was small, Bakura was happy. 

***

Since Ryou already knew about the puppies, and was popular with Mukhfi, he volunteered to pet sit while they went camping. Even with Ryou spoiling them with new toys and dog biscuits, Bakura had to drag Kek out the door so they didn’t miss the train. This time they took a cab. Kek had practiced the meditations he needed to summon his ka, but it was still his first attempt so Bakura wanted him rested. 

As they climbed the trail Kek stopped at each _jizo-sama_ statue again and gave them a rice ball and prayer. 

“Ryou used to pray for his sister at statues like these,” Bakura spoke with his arms crossed over his chest. The wind blew his hair into his face, but he ignored it as he accepted the memories for what they were. They still bothered him, but he felt like he could talk about it now. “I wish we’d had something like this. In Egypt. Back then.” 

“You could pray for your village now.”

“Eh,” Bakura looked away. “They’ve moved on.”

“I don’t think it hurts. Even if they’re in Aaru.”

“Yeah.” Bakura’s face crumpled as his knees hit the dirt. He folded down to his forehead, trying to remember what his mother looked like. 

“I didn’t want to talk about it the first time, but Tomoko asked me to do this,” Kek confessed.

Bakura nodded, but didn’t asked for details. He had a good idea why a woman living alone in a big house turned hostel might want her adopted child to pray to the _jizo-samas_. They continued up the mountain, and stopped at each statue, and found a spot near their original campsite but a little closer to the stream. 

“I’m nervous.” Kek laughed, looking out into the saturated blue sky. 

“I know the feeling.” Bakura set down their tent and his half of the gear and walked over to Kek, talking both of his hands. “Want to get it out of the way before we set up camp? Or do you want to wait until dusk?”

“Let’s do it now. It’s cold, and I didn’t see any other hikers on our way up.” Kek grinned. “And if I wait any longer I think I’m going to barf.” 

“As long as you barf over the cliff.” Bakura nudged Kek’s ribs with his elbow. 

“Did I ever tell you that you’re a fucking riot?” Kek poked Bakura’s stomach in return. 

Bakura retaliated with kissing Kek’s forehead. Kek moaned, still sensitive whenever Bakura kissed where the Eye of Wadjet once sat. Kek slipped his hand down Bakura’s pants so he could hold Bakura’s hip as he kissed his mouth. Bracing Bakura at the small of his back, Kek dipped him out over the edge of the cliff. The wind tugged Bakura’s hair to the side of his face. He was floating, perhaps flying; it was exhilarating. 

Kek pulled him back, their chests pressed flushed together. Bakura looked up at him and Kek used a single knuckle to graze Bakura’s cheek. 

“You’re blushing, Kura.” 

“Are we going to stand here and make out all day, or are we going to actually summon our ka? Because if you don’t move that hand from my hip soon, I’m going to climb you like a tree.”

“We are camping, and climbing trees is fun.” Kek winked before stealing one last kiss and pulling away. 

He sat cross-legged like Bakura had showed him during his meditations and closed his eyes, breathing deep, slow breaths. Kek shook his head. 

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can.” Bakura sat in front of him, taking his hands again. 

“N-no. It’ll be a monster.” 

“I’ve been where you’re at. Remember? It’s okay, even if it is a fiend type, I still love you as you are.”

“Will you summon Diabound? I want to see if he’s changed since the fire.” 

“I doubt he has, but if it’ll ease your mind.” Bakura scratched the back of his scalp. Kek nodded, and Bakura exhaled. “It’s funny, you know. I used to use anger to summon Diabound. It was always the emotion that gave me the strength I needed to fight.” 

“You said pure, strong emotions work best.”

“Yes. The stronger the emotion, the greater your ka will be.”

“So what do you use now? Without the anger.” Kek dug his fingers into his shirt, gripping his chest right over his heart.

“My strongest, most beautiful emotion- sarcasm.” 

“Mother fucker.” Kek folded forward, laughing. By the time he straightened up, he looked less frazzled. A leaf blew into his hair. “It’s love, right?”

“Yeah, all that happy bullshit actually makes for good magic. Who knew?” Bakura shrugged and pulled the leaf away. “Love works better. I wished I had understood that, back then. Things might have been different if I'd known, and I did love my village… I did.”

“I know.”

“And I do. I still do. Kul Elna and… us. Our little village. Tomoko, and Granny, the gaming night crew, Mukhfi, and even the stupid lovebirds and ferrets.” 

“What about the fish, Bakura? You should love them as well.”

“Sure. Why not?” Bakura snorted. “Everyone, they’re our own little village, aren’t they?” 

“Yes.” Kek reached out, combing his fingers through Bakura’s hair. 

“And when you think about that, concentrate on those feelings, it’s easy to summon your soul.”

Bakura materialized Diabound behind him and allowed him to float over the edge of the cliff. 

“Oh my gods, Bakura.” Kek gasped. 

His eyes were wide and glittering with bright light. Bakura saw his shadow cut across Kek’s lap. The light behind him was brighter than it should have been. Bakura pushed up onto his knees and spun around. He started, falling onto his ass and landing in Kek’s lap. 

“Is that what he looked like in Egypt?” 

“Mostly.” Bakura tried to swallow, but he couldn’t get passed the lump in his throat. 

Diabound was bigger, his tail longer. Six wings adorned his upper back and four sprung out from the lower back where the tail and torso met. Only a few black markings remained- markings Bakura suspected would always stay as a reminder of his past. A black Ring marred Diabound’s chest, and his left hand had a dark starburst. A jagged scar cut across Diabound’s shoulder, but it was gold, not black. Diabound’s snake tail still bore the cobra hood, and black patterns inked down the hood, but other than that… 

“I don’t… I can’t… I’m not good.” Bakura laughed, it reminded him of a broken bell. “Not like this.” 

“I think you are.” Kek looped his arms around Bakura’s belly, kissing the nape of his neck. 

“I…” Ribbons of white blew into Bakura’s face, he brushed them away, not wanting to take his stare off of Diabound’s new form, not even for an instant. 

Bakura couldn’t speak. He felt the burn in his eyes; he knew in his heart that this _was_ Diabound. It _was_ his soul. Somehow, without a noble quest, without an epic adventure, with only simple, daily choices hidden in the most mundane of circumstances, _this_ is what he’d truly become. And _this_ was who he truly was. He didn’t cry. He didn’t need the tears to fall to know that whatever Kek was about to summon, was going to be a god on earth. That they had grown bright together. 

“Do it,” Bakura whispered. He stood up, helped Kek to his feet, and kissed his forehead a second time. “I want to see them side by side.”

When his lips pressed against Kek’s forehead, there was another light, golden, and in all of Bakura’s three thousand years of existence he had never seen a sun as gold as the fire swirling off each feather of the phoenix who appeared in the sky. Violet adorned her tail and wing feathers, and her eyes were bright, bright, searing bright lavender- same as Kek’s. 

“No.” Kek shook his head, tears slipping down his cheeks. “No. That’s… a mistake. That’s Malik’s. Not mine. That has to be Malik’s ka. Is it possible I summoned Malik’s ka because I don’t have one of my own?”

“No, Kek. She’s yours. I know it’s hard. I’m still in shock about Diabound. But… this is real. Holy fuck, look at us.” 

“So she’s...really me? She’s really my ka?” The tears streaming down Kek’s face looked like rivers of melted gold in the light of the phoenix's brilliant fire. “She’s gorgeous. I never- I didn’t think- is it even possible? That I’m like _this_ inside?”

“Of course. You’re exactly like this ka. The fire. The strength. The radiance.” Bakura twined his arms around Kek’s torso, squeezing him and kissing the side of Kek’s shoulder. “Kek, taking you with me out of the Shadows was stealing the greatest treasure I ever stole out of a tomb. Malik was a foolish king indeed, to have ever thrown you away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thanks for coming to me Ted Talk about why we don’t self depreciate and call ourselves trash (and don’t say it about our characters, either). We all have this sort of potential, and we all have the ability to try and become brighter, even as we work through our current challenges and past traumas in day-to-day life.


End file.
